Blood Brothers
by Hyena Cub
Summary: When Frank and Joe are asked why they look nothing alike, they tell a tale of the past.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Thanks to my cousin Felina for all her great advice! Particulalrly on wording. Also, this is not my usual kind of fanfiction, but with some effort and some great editing assistance, I think it came out well! 

1 

"You know," said Chet Morton. "You guys really don't look all that much alike." The chubby youth leaned back in the booth at Mr. Pizza, peering at the two brothers. 

Joe grinned. "I know. I'm just lucky, I guess." 

The group chuckled as Frank slugged Joe in the arm. "Brag away, brat," he said loftily. "You may have the looks and the brawn, but I have all the brains." 

Joe snorted. "Coulda fooled me!" 

With a wicked smile, Frank shot back, "That's not entirely difficult to accomplish." 

This light-hearted banter was taking place in the brightly lit dining room of Mr. Pizza, where the boys' good friend Tony Prito worked. The parlor sat right in the middle of the busy mall, and was one of the more popular places for the youth of Bayport to hang out. The place was crowded. 

Frank and Joe Hardy sat in a large, round booth with a handful of their friends; Tony was off work that day, and sat on one end. Chet and Iola were there, as were Biff Hooper and Liz Webling. As the boys proceeded to engage in a brief, mild wrestling match, Callie Shaw also showed up and raised her brows at the scene before her. Frank noticed her and stopped tussling with Joe, allowing the younger boy to successfully give him the noogie he'd been aiming for. "Hi, Callie,' said Frank. 

Callie shook her head and laughed. "I was wondering if I'd walked into Wrestlemania or something," she said, as Tony stood to let her sit next to her boyfriend. She thanked him and sat down, watching the two transform themselves back into almost civilized human beings. 

"For that matter," said Biff. "Chet and Iola don't look all that similar, either." 

Iola grinned impishly and lightly elbowed Chet in the gut. "Especially around the waist." 

Far from being insulted, Chet patted his round belly fondly, as if it were an old friend. "Hey, a guy's gotta eat," he said. 

"Yes, and you go above and beyond the call of duty!" Iola chuckled and shook her head. "Anyway, Chet takes after Mom," she explained. "While I got Grandpa's dark skin and hair, and his high metabolism." 

The group was quiet for a moment as they enjoyed the pizza before them, and listened to the wind howling outside. "Sure am glad this place is heated," Chet muttered. 

"Try working in the kitchen," Tony said. "After an hour or so, you'd be wishing for a nice, cold blast of fresh air." 

Iola shivered. "Not me!" 

Liz looked at the brothers. "So what about you guys?" she asked. "Who do you take after?" 

Frank and Joe exchanges glances, and Joe shrugged. "I don't care," he said, as if in answer to an unspoken question. 

Frank nodded, then turned back to the group. "Well, I take after Dad. But Joe doesn't take after anyone." 

"How'd you manage that one?" Chet asked, a half grin on his face as if he expected Frank to be pulling his leg. 

"Well," said Frank, "it's like this..." 

When seven year old Frank Hardy came home from school one winter afternoon, his first impression was that something bad had happened. When he walked in the door, his parents were both waiting for him, looking very serious, which made the boy nervous. He put his book bag down on a nearby chair, frowning slightly. 

"How was school?" his mother asked him. 

Frank shrugged. "Okay. I got stupid reading homework, though." He took off his heavy coat and cast it to the floor. 

Laura cocked her head. "I thought you enjoyed reading. And please put your coat on the chair." 

Frank complied. "I do," he said. "But all the stuff is so easy and it's boring." 

Laura and Fenton both nodded; it was a fair argument. Frank was a very intelligent boy, and read far beyond his grade level. 

"Well," said Fenton. "Your mother and I have something we need to talk to you about." 

Frank frowned suspiciously. "Am I in trouble?" 

Fenton chuckled. "No. Not today, at any rate. No, no, it's just a talk that we decided it's time we had." 

Frank looked at him for a moment, and then his eyes widened in horror. "You're-you're not gonna talk about - about -" He broke off, his face turning a deep shade of red. 

Fenton and Laura's expressions were that of bafflement as they exchanged looks, neither seeming to know what might be causing their son's dismay. "Talk about..." Laura prompted, looking back at her son. 

"_You_ know," Frank said, the red in his cheeks deepening. He looked around, then behind him, as if afraid that someone might be eavesdropping on his every word. When he turned back to his parents he whispered, "The "s" word!" Seeing the utter confusion on his parents' faces, Frank scowled in frustration. He leaned forward, pitching his voice yet lower, so that it was barely audible. "You know... s-e-x!" He spelled the word out, and even then it was as if he had spoken a term of great taboo. Which, if one thought about it, it was, at least among many boys his age. 

Fenton blinked in surprise, as Laura turned abruptly around to hide the fact that she was trying, with only partial success, to hide her laugh. Fenton was a bit more composed. "Oh! No, no, son, not about that," he assured and anxious boy. "It's a little early for that talk, I think. No, we've got something else to talk to you about." He sat down, indicating to Frank that he might want to do the same. 

"Oh." At his father's urging, Frank climbed onto the couch to listen to what his parents had to say. He felt that after the scare about the possible subject of the talk, that anything would be a breeze to handle. Laura also sat, recovered for now from her bout of mirth. 

"All right," Fenton said. "You know that we've been gone quite a bit in the evenings, visiting the orphanage, right?" 

Frank nodded his head; boy, did he know! Three times a week for the past few months, he had had to be baby-sat by Fenton's older sister, Gertrude. She was not all that older than Fenton, but she acted like an old lady from the olden days. She was strict and humorless, and Frank did not particularly enjoy his visits with her. 

"Well, the reason we have been going, is that we've been visiting with the children and the staff there, getting to know them, and making friends." He looked to Laura, who was far better with this sort of explanation. 

The woman smiled. "Dad and I made the decision a couple of years ago," she said to the boy, "that we wanted to adopt another child. We waited until we were ready. And, well, that time has come." 

Frank's small brow furrowed, as he looked at his parents, not sure he liked the idea of another child in the house. "You're gonna bring home a kid?" 

To their credit, neither parent chuckled at this. "Sort of," said Fenton. It's not so easy as that, and it won't be for a couple of months, yet. Possibly three or four." 

Frank bit his lip. "Why?" 

"Why are we adopting?" The child nodded, and Fenton put a hand on his shoulder. "First," he said sincerely, "Just so we get this straight, kiddo, we are _not _replacing you." He smiled a bit and ruffled his son's dark hair. "Your mom and I had always planned on having two children." 

"But how come you don't – you know – have another one the regular way?" Frank asked, his face reddening a bit once more. 

Laura smiled a little sadly. "I can't have any more children," she told him. "Some of my inside parts were not working right, so I had to have an operation to have them taken out so it didn't make me sick." 

"Oh." Frank thought on this. "Are those the parts you need to have a baby?" 

"Some of them, yes. But that's okay. There are a lot of children that don't have a family, and I am quite happy to be that family for someone who wants us to be." 

Again, the boy was thoughtful. And then he asked: "Is it a boy or a girl?" 

"We don't know yet," said Fenton. "We have to see who will want us to adopt them. We won't, of course, adopt anyone who does not want to be adopted." 

"We'd like you to come with us at least one of the times," Laura added." 

Frank blinked. "Me? How come?" 

Laura smiled. "Well, we don't want to adopt a child that you'll end up hating. We want someone we can all get along well with." Frank looked relieved at this information, and Laura noticed. She reached over and hugged him. "This is a big decision, baby, we wouldn't leave you out of it." 

This reassurance left Frank feeling a lot less uncertain about this whole adopting idea, though he still wasn't sure if he agreed with it or not! It was on his mind all through the afternoon and dinner, and in his room while he was doing his reading homework. Mom came into the room and kissed him good night. 

When she left, Frank thought yet more, turning it over and over in his mind. Did he really want a little brother or sister? Would it _be_ a younger child? He supposed it would be kind of cool, but what if the new child did replace him? What if his parents liked the new one better? Frank was suddenly not so sure he wanted a new sibling. 

The next time Fenton and Laura visited the orphanage, Frank did accompany them, his mind still churning with uncertainty. They were greeted, checked in, and then led into the main playroom. 

It seemed like a cool orphanage to Frank, nothing like those sterile, institutional asylums that you always read about in books. The room was huge, with ivory walls and natural wood flooring. Colorful play mats and rugs lay everywhere, and the walls were decorated with pictures, learning posters, and kids' artwork. Along the top of the wall, Frank saw the letters of the alphabet, in several languages, it turned out. He mentioned that some of the letters looked mutated, and was told that they were Chinese or Japanese (Fenton wasn't sure which). The windows were covered in white, paper snowflakes, and Frank caught sight of a few sleds in one corner. 

Built right into the floor along one side of the room was some small playground equipment for the children to play in when they were inside. There were bookcases, toys, a TV, and VCR, along with various other amusements. 

Once Frank had taken in the scenery, Fenton and Laura introduced him to one of the attendants, a pretty black lady who said her name was Janice. She invited the Hardys to go ahead and mingle, and that all three of "them" were in the playroom. Who she spoke of, Frank wasn't sure, and so he asked. 

"There are three kids here that we've decided would do well at our home," Laura explained. "And we'll likely adopt one of them." 

"Oh! Which ones are they?" 

Laura scanned the room, looking for the three kids; it was not so easy, as the children were all moving around a great deal as they played. "Well, there's the girls," she said, pointing to a pair of little girls playing in the corner. They looked about nine years old, and were playing with toy horses and ponies. The smaller one was a little blond child, with big, green eyes; the taller was a tomboy-ish looking girl with mousy brown ponytails. 

"Girls?" Frank repeated, looking disgusted. 

The two adults exchanged glances. Laura rolled her eyes, smiling a bit, and Fenton chuckled. "Yep," he said. "They would be girls. Come on, let's go talk with them." Frank wasn't at all sure that he was impressed by this idea, but he went along, anyway. 

"Hello, girls," Fenton said as he approached the pair. 

One of the children looked up and grinned. "Hi, Mr. Hardy!" she said, standing up. The other girl looked at the Hardys and smiled shyly. "Who's the boy?" the first girl asked. "Is he new here?" 

Fenton knelt to talk to them. "Cynthia, Samantha, this is our son, Frank." 

"Hi," said Frank shortly. He disliked introductions, it made him feel like he was on display. He lifted his hand in a sort of wave. 

"Do you wanna play ponies?" the taller girl, Samantha, asked. 

"Eu, no," said Frank, a rather comical grimace of distaste on his face, and backed away a step from the pony the girl held out. 

Samantha frowned. "Why?" 

"'Cuz boys don't play with ponies," Frank said passionately, eyeing the pony as if it might leap into his arms of its own accord. "That's girl stuff!" 

Samantha seemed to take some offense to this statement. "What, you think they've got cooties or something?" she said fiercely, holding her pony protectively to her. 

"I don't believe in cooties," said Frank. 

"Oh." 

"But if cooties were real," he said after a moment's consideration, "then they'd have them!" 

Samantha scowled, and took a step forward. "They would _not_!" she argued, loud enough for those nearby to look up and see what was going on. 

Before Frank could reply, Fenton stood and put a hand on his shoulder. "Whoa, I think that's enough," he said to the two quarreling children. He lightly ruffled Samantha's shoulder-length hair, and gently tapped Cynthia's nose. "We'll see you girls another time, all right?" 

Still glaring at Frank, Samantha answered, "Okay." 

"Do you know where Mikey is?" Laura asked them. 

Cynthia spoke up for the first time, in a timid little voice that matched her shy demeanor. "I think over at the music station." 

Laura smiled warmly. "Thanks, kiddo." Once saying goodbye to the pair, Fenton and Laura steered their son away from the girls and their ponies. 

The next encounter went considerably better. Mikey was, indeed, at the music station, which was a little corner of the playroom with various toy instruments and noisemakers. Mikey, the only child at the station just then, looked up from his toy piano playing and smiled brightly. "Hi!" 

Mikey was a little towheaded boy of five or six years, with clear blue eyes and a sprinkle of freckles across his nose and cheeks. His blond hair was a wild shag that hung in front of his eyes, and he absently brushed it aside. 

"Hello, Mikey," said Fenton, kneeling once more. "How are you?" 

"Good!" said Mikey. "I was playing, you wanna hear?" 

"Absolutely!" As the child sat at the little piano once more, Fenton and Laura gave him their attention. Even Frank watched curiously. 

For being played on a toy piano, Mikey's "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" sounded pretty good. Laura and Fenton clapped when he was done. "Janice taught me it," Mikey explained. 

"It was good," Laura assured him. 

Frank looked interestedly at the little piano. "Can I try it?" he asked. 

"Sure!" said Mikey, motioning for Frank to join him at the tiny piano and proceeded to teach Frank how to play the song. 

Fenton and his wife watched the boys play for a while; after the piano lesson, they played on the slide for a bit, and then joined three other boys in racing Hot Wheels. 

"Looks like he might be the one," Fenton said with a chuckle. 

"Seems so," Laura agreed. "But we have a couple of months, yet to decide." 

"Hmm," said Fenton, his tone mildly teasing. "Do I detect a desire for another female around to balance things out a bit?" 

Laura laughed at this. "Well, of course that would be nice! Then you two couldn't gang up on me so easily." She winked. "But, more seriously, with a girl there might be less chance of constant competition. Girls and boys of that age are usually quite different in their likes." She paused and went on. "Sill, Frank and Mikey seem to get along well enough." 

"Yes," said Fenton. "They do." 

After about a half hour, the Hardys left. Though feeling a bit dazed with the suddeness of everything, Frank said that he liked Mikey, and wouldn't mind having him for a brother. His parents told him they were glad to hear it, and if he liked, he could go back to play with the children. Frank said that he would.


	2. Chapter 2

2

Months passed, and the Hardys continued to visit the orphanage. It became more and more apparent that little Mikey would be the child that they would adopt. Cynthia ended up being adopted by another couple, which made the Hardys glad for her, and Samantha and Frank did not get along at all. Fenton and Laura had a long talk with the child, and were sure she understood. That was okay, she said. She didn't like Frank very much, and was optimistic enough that someone else would adopt her. And if not, she didn't particularly mind. 

The visit where Mikey would go home with his new family was an exciting one for everyone, even Frank, who was still a little worried about the new addition. The Hardys walked into the orphanage and were greeted by a man who introduced himself as Dr. Friezman. A psychologist, it turned out, who always interviewed prospective parents. Although the adult Hardys had been screened far more intensively weeks ago, the doctor still wanted to have a chat with them. 

Frank was somewhat intimidated by the psychologist, who reminded him a little bit of a mad scientist. There was no goatee, but the doctor did wear thick glasses, and a white coat like Frank's pediatrician wore. And while Frank was used to adults being far taller than he, this one seemed more so than normal. He was a whole head taller than his mom, and even had a few inches on Fenton. Tall and skinny, just like the evil doctors in books and movies. "I am glad to see you again, Mr. And Mrs. Hardy," Dr. Friezman said. He smiled warmly and shook hands with them both, then looked to Frank. "And it is good to meet you, Frank Hardy." 

The doctor offered his hand, but Frank shook his head and backed off a step, his eyes wide. "Uh-uh," he said, refusing. "You're creepy." 

Fenton blinked, and then stifled a laugh, and Laura looked at the boy, surprise on her face. "Frank!" she said, laughing with a sort of shocked amusement. "That wasn't nice!" 

The doctor looked anything but offended. He chuckled and knelt, so that he wasn't looming over the boy. "That's okay," said the doctor in a conspiratorial whisper. "A lot of grown-ups think I'm creepy, too. It's kind of fun." He winked. Then stood up again, leaving Frank wondering if he should be worried, or relieved. After a moment, he seemed to think that the doctor was okay. Really weird, but okay. 

Dr. Friezman asked the Hardys what had made them decide to adopt Mikey, and they gave him all their reasons, told him how they had developed a relationship over the months they visited, and how they had brought Frank to make sure the adoption would not cause a lot of grief for the children. In tones of slight amusement, they told him about Frank and Samantha's first meeting. Frank looked a little embarrassed, but said nothing. 

And then Dr. Friezman turned to Frank. "What about you, young man? What do you think about all this?" 

Frank looked at him a moment, clearly not having expected to be addressed about the situation. The boy shrugged. "It's okay, I guess. It'll be weird, though." 

"Why weird?" the doctor asked curiously. 

"Well, it's kinda like having a friend stay the night, but they're not just staying one night, but all the nights. It's not like if Mom had a baby, or something." 

Dr. Friezman nodded. "You're right, it is a little more unusual, when an older child is adopted. Do you think you'll like having a brother? 

Again, Frank shrugged. "I think so. It's better than a sister." 

Fenton and Laura shrugged, but the doctor simply nodded. "I understand," he told the boy. "I used to think that about my sister, too. But, we grew out of fighting, eventually." He grinned, and Frank actually grinned back. No, this doctor was not so creepy after all. 

"Well," said the doctor, finally standing. "I think that Mikey will have a fine home with your family." He looked at Frank and smiled. "And I think that you will be a fine big brother." 

Frank found himself smiling, pleased, at this praise. "Thanks," he said. 

"Well, if you'd like to wait here, I'll bring young Mikey in so you can tell him the news. The paperwork will take a week or two to get in order, but then you should be able to take your son home." 

"Thank you," Laura said. To Frank's astonishment, she looked nervous! "We appreciate your time." 

"It was my pleasure." Dr. Friezman left then, leaving the Hardys alone for the moment. 

"How come we have to wait two weeks?" Frank asked. 

"Well, there are a lot of things that you need when you adopt a child," said Fenton. "Their birth certificate, and the like, and there are a ton of forms that you have to sign. And it just all takes a long time to make sure it's in order, and there's no mistakes." 

"Oh. That's kinda dumb," said Frank. 

Fenton laughed aloud. As a detective, he knew how tedious paperwork was. "I agree, kiddo," he said. "But unfortunately, it's necessary." 

Just then, the door opened again, and Mikey came in, looking curious. "Hi!" he greeted the Hardy's, his blue eyes looking questioningly up at them. He looked at Frank and said hi to him, also, before looking back to the adults. 

"Mr. And Mrs. Hardy have some news for you, Mikey," said the doctor. 

"Really?" 

Laura nodded. "Yes." She knelt, and looked the little boy in the eye. "Fenton and I would like to adopt you, if you'd like to come and live with us." Mikey's eyes got very big, and his expression very serious. 

Fenton spoke, his voice soft. "Of course, kiddo, if you don't think you'd be comfortable with us as your family, please say so. This is a decision that all of us must agree on." 

For several moments, there was nothing, as Mikey only stood there, gaping, his eyes large and round. Finally he opened his mouth and spoke, in a shaky voice. "Y-you're really gonna adopt me?" 

Laura smiled. "Yes. We're really going to adopt you. If you want us." 

Mikey laughed, exhilaration in his voice, and he began jumping up and down excitedly. "Yes! Yes! I do, I wanna get adopted by you!" He flung himself forward and threw his arms around Laura's neck. 

Laura's somewhat tentative smile widened, and the uncertainly left her expression as she hugged the child. "We're very glad," she said to him, laughing a bit; as even while he was hugging her, he was jumping up and down. For the sake of her neck, she gently separated him from it. 

"Can we go now? You have a house, right? Do you have any other kids? Will I go to school here or a regular school?" 

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there a bit," said Fenton, in answer to the rapid-fire assault of queries. "Easy, kiddo. We can't take you home just yet," he told him. Mikey stopped jumping, and his wide grin faded a little. "There's a lot of paperwork to sign, and you have to get ready to move, too." He ruffled the boy's flaxen hair. "But it should only take one or two weeks. You'll see, it'll go very fast. 

"Awww, but I wanna go today!" 

Dr. Friezman stepped in then, laying a hand on the child's head. "Now, Mikey," he said to him. "Surely you want to tell the other kids goodbye, right? And you'll want to take your belongings home, right? You'll need time to prepare, as well." 

"Wellll," said Mikey, scowling a bit. He hated when the grown-ups were right. That meant he had to admit it! "Okay...but could the papers get hurried up?" 

With no trace of a chuckle, the doctor nodded seriously. "I'll see what I can do. Fair enough?" 

"Yeah!" said Mikey, looking excited again. "Fair enough! Wow, I can't wait!" 

The family-to-be spent a little more time together, talking about the change that would soon take place, and then Mikey was taken back to his classroom, where he'd been pulled from. Needless to say, the boy didn't concentrate well on the activities the kindergarten teacher was giving. 

When the day came, Mikey looked both scared to death and almost painfully excited. Waiting for him in the front office was a trunk with his belongings in it, as well as a bookbag and a duffel. Bundled in mittens, a hat, and a heavy red coat, Mikey was led into the area by Dr. Friezman/ 

"Well, Mikey," said the doctor. "Looks like time went pretty fast, after all, no?" 

The boy nodded, too excited to speak. 

The doctor knelt by him and smiled. "Now you be good, got it, kiddo?" he said. He tapped the boy on the nose, making him giggle and cover his nose indignantly. Mikey nodded, and the doctor gave him a short hug. "You'll do great; the Hardys are good people. Good luck now." He stood, and gently nudged the boy towards the Hardys. 

Laura held out her hand, which Mikey took, looking uncharacteristically shy. A couple of workers from the orphanage helped to carry Mikey's things to the car. 

The ride home was one of the weirdest ones, Frank Hardy thought. He kept looking at the new boy as if he might be an alien, or something equally bizarre. Mikey seemed not to notice this scrutiny, as he gazed eagerly out the window, at his new parents, his new brother, the car...anything that happened to catch his eye. 

When they got home, there was considerable activity. Fenton and Laura helped Mikey get his belongings out of the car, and even Frank helped, so that he was not left out. One of the guest rooms upstairs had been staked out as Mikey's, and his things were put there. There were white sheets on the bed, and a dresser in the corner. "We'll get you a desk, eventually," said Laura, as they brought in a trunk with Mikey's clothing in it. 

"Okay!" Mikey gazed at the room as if it were a palace. "I get my own room?" 

Fenton chuckled. "Yep, you get your own room. The orphanage had dorms, didn't they? Shared rooms?" 

Mikey nodded. "Yeah, there's four kids in the rooms, with bunk beds. I got an under bunk though, I don't like being up high." 

"Well, tell you what," said Fenton, looking down at Frank, who stood close to him. He put a hand on Frank's shoulder. "Would you mind showing Mikey around, Frank? Show him all the house, and where everyone is? That would be a big help. Your mother's going to start supper soon, and I have a bit of work to do in my study." 

The boy smiled a bit, and nodded. "Okay," he said, and looked at Mikey. "C'mon...we'll start in the attic." 

"Okay!" Mikey grinned and left the room, following Frank towards the attic stairs. Fenton and Laura watched them for a few moments. 

"You okay?" Fenton asked. 

Laura sighed, and nodded, leaning against the wall in a mock display of exhaustion. "I'm fine," she said, laughing a bit. "Just...what a day!" The smile that appeared on her face showed that she in no way was regretting their decision. 

"Indeed! Well, I'll be in the study if you need me." 

Laura nodded, and the two went to their respective tasks.   
  


The next couple of weeks were dedicated to getting Mikey settled into his new home. Frank was at school during the day, and Fenton was usually working on whatever case he had going at the time, as well. Laura was usually the one who ended up helping the child settle in. He learned the rules of the house (which were actually simple rules of courtesy and safety, very similar to the orphanage). He learned where everything was, and met Aunt Gertrude. The two seemed to take an immediate dislike to each other, and the visit had ended with a stubborn scowl on Joe's face, and a disapproving scold from Aunt Gertrude. Laura vowed not to let the two together often if she could possibly help it. Even Fenton, normally quite tolerant of his older sister's ways, was highly annoyed at her. 

There were times when Mikey got homesick, as the orphanage had been his home all of his life. He missed his friends, and he missed the adults there, and his new home was strange and a little frightening. Laura and Fenton did what they could, and even Frank helped sometimes, distracting Mikey with a game. Sometimes, if he was feeling energetic or impish, he'd tickle the boy until he laughed, which always ended with Mikey getting indignant that he'd been made to laugh, then tackling Frank. The ensuing wrestling matches left the boys out of breath and usually giggling. 

At the two-week mark, a representative from the orphanage, Dr. Friezman's assistant, stopped by to see how Mikey was doing. He talked with Fenton and Laura, and then with Mikey, and was apparently satisfied with the child's adaptation. It was obvious that he had been adopted into a good home. 

Mikey had been in Kindergarten at the orphanage, but it was close enough to the end of the school year that Fenton and Laura decided to just keep him home for now, make sure he learned what he needed to, and have him attend the first grade in the fall. 

The two adults also tried to pay a little more attention to Frank than they usually did, as it was clear that he was beginning to get jealous of the fuss that was being made over Mikey. The effort seemed to help, for now. 

As the school year ended, Mikey was asked if he wanted to keep his name, or have a new one. The Hardys certainly were not going to make him change his name, save for his last name, if he didn't want to. A child's name was his, and they felt it wrong to make him change it. 

Mikey actually surprised them by saying that he would like to have a new name. He seemed to make this decision mostly out of a sense of adventure, although he did say that it made sense to change his name, since he was living a new life. He didn't quite use those terms, but the gist was clearly enough. Fenton was amazed by the wisdom that most children possessed, that many adults never realized. 

When asked what he would like his new name to be, Mikey wasn't sure. He did know he wanted to keep Michael as a middle name, and his new parents agreed. "Maybe two middle names!" the child said. That would be different! 

"We'll talk it over," said Fenton. "We have three months to decide on a name. After that, whatever your name is at the time is what will be on the adoption papers and the adoption records." 

"Okay," the little boy agreed. If anything, he seemed a very agreeable sort, unless he was being stubborn. And then he was as contrary, obstinate, and unyielding as a stone mule! The kid had a will of steel, when he wanted to. Fenton had thought many times that it was a good thing the child was mostly happy with being agreeable. 

__

Once school was over, the boys were home together quite a lot. The two children that Frank usually played with were not around this summer; one had moved, and the other was on a two-month vacation with his parents, and that had Frank feeling a little blue. 

Mikey had decided that he wanted his name to be Joseph, after a character in one of his favorite story series, a mystery series that they had been reading to the children in the orphanage before Mikey left it. He wanted his first name to be Joseph, and one of his middle names to be Michael. "What about your other middle name?" Fenton asked him curiously. 

Mikey thought carefully about this. "I dunno!" he finally said. "What sounds good?" 

Laura spoke up. "Perhaps we can give you a middle name that honors one of our family members," she said to him. "Like we did Frank. His middle name is Benjamin, after my father." 

Mikey's expression grew thoughtful, and then he broke into a grin. That was the best idea, he thought. That could make him _really_ a part of the family! "Okay!" he agreed eagerly. "Who's the person that I'd get the name from?" 

"Well," said Laura, looking to her husband. "I'm not sure. Frank's name is from my side of the family, Fenton, perhaps Mikey's should be from yours?" 

"That'd be fantastic," said Fenton. "And I know just the one. My older brother, Alexander. I always admired him most out of all my family, even if we did fight a lot." The detective looked at his younger son, and raised his eyebrows. "Well? What do you think? Joseph Michael Alexander Hardy. How's that sound?" 

Mikey giggled. "I like it!" 

"Okay, then! I'll contact the orphanage this afternoon and let them know of the change!" 

"Cool! I'm gonna go tell Frank!" The newly named child ran up the stairs to find the older boy, who happened to be up in the attic, looking at a box of his father's old belongings. The kids were allowed in the attic to look at all the old stuff, so long as they were both careful, and put things back when they were done. 

Frank looked up from a baseball card he was holding. "Hi," he said, trying not to sound _too_ irritable. Mikey seemed to like to follow him around, and Frank didn't like it. It was enough that Mikey was taking up his parents' time, but did he have to act like some kind of lovesick puppy? 

"Guess what? I got a new name!" 

Frank blinked. "You did?" 

"Yeah! They said that I could, since this name was from my old family, but I didn't have to get a new name, but I wanted to, so they let me!" He took a big breath, and continued. "It's gonna be Joseph Michael Alexander Hardy. They said since your middle name's from...from Mom's...family, that I could have a middle name from Dad's." It was still very strange to be calling someone Mom and Dad. His own parents had been dead since he was younger than a year. 

"Oh...neat," said Frank, not sounding all that excited about the news. That didn't seem very fair; he didn't get to choose _his_ own name! Frowning a little bit, he went back to examining the contents of the box. To his irritation, Mikey, sat down also. 

"What's in there?" 

"It's Dad's stuff," said Frank, frowning yet deeper, and turning so that his back was to him. 

"Oh. Can I look too?" 

"No." 

Mikey blinked, frowning a little, and bit his lip. Frank had been acting like he didn't like him, and he wasn't sure what he had done wrong. After a little while, he got up and slunk back downstairs to his room. 


	3. Chapter 3

3

In the first two weeks of summer vacation, Fenton Hardy had news for his family. He had an opportunity to go into business for himself, and had gained enough reputation and renown on the east coast that he should be able to manage a fairly decent income if he did. At the moment, he worked for an investigation firm, and although he made decent money, he had always to branch out on his own. "But it would require us moving out of state," said Fenton. "Not _too_ far, the town I'm thinking of is in New York, right on the bay, less than a day's drive. I know the chief of police there, and he is willing to help me get my license." 

Joe, or Joey as people seemed to want to call him, did not care where the family lived, just so he _had_ a family. But Frank had set up a whole holy howl, making it known in no uncertain terms that he had no intentions of moving. Fenton and Laura exchanged glances at this. They intended to move, but they did not want to do so when Frank was so dead set against it. Obviously, the last thing they wanted was for one of their children to be miserable. Fenton and Laura told the boys to think on it for a few days, and they would discuss it again then. 

"I don't want to!" Frank cried. "I'm not gonna ever wanna move! Not ever!" With that, the child ran off, heading for his room, while Joe sat on the couch looking uncomfortable. Fenton sighed, and rubbed his temples. 

"It's okay, Fenton," said Laura, going over to give him a sort of one-armed hug. "That's nothing different from what we expected." 

"I know," said Fenton. "That doesn't make it any more pleasant, though." Fenton looked down at Joey, who seemed to be at a loss as to how to react. He thought Frank was acting kinda silly, but then Joey was a highly adaptable child. Being an orphan, he almost had to be. "You doin' okay, kiddo?" Fenton asked. 

Joey nodded. "Yeah." 

Fenton smiled a big, and ruffled his hair. "That's good. Well, supper'll be in a little bit. You might as well get some playing in before then." 

Joey was agreeable enough to this, and headed out into the backyard to play by himself. That was one thing he was having difficulty getting used to, not having a whole room full of children to play with. He wished Frank would play with him more often. He didn't think Frank really liked him very much anymore. 

In the end, it was eventually decided that the family would move. Frank was still unhappy about this, but they had managed to transform his attitude to a sullen sort of disagreement, rather than a full-blown temper tantrum. The argument that they would be too far from Aunt Gertrude for her to baby-sit anymore helped in this endeavor a great deal, and the idea of being very close to the ocean was another factor. They had gone to the beach twice on vacation, and Frank loved it. 

There was a great deal of excitement around the Hardy household in the next week. There was packing to be done, in itself a daunting task. Joey and Frank helped a great deal in this, and thankfully it kept them both busy enough to avoid any unpleasant confrontations. They Hardys decided what they wanted to keep, and what they would give to the Salvation Army, in the way of clothing, toys and other belongings. Fenton and Laura did not make the boys get rid of anything they did not want to give up, but they did encourage them to donate the things they truly never used, and that meant nothing to them. The fact that they respected their children enough to give them this choice actually made the boys more likely to contribute to the charity donations. Both boys ended up giving a few things away. 

Once the pickups of the donated items had been completed, the rest of the belongings packed, and the moving date set, the family was ready for relocation. Laura had gone and gotten the boys' school records and copies of things like their birth certificates (Joey's was far easier to obtain, as they'd had to get a new copy put on file with Joey's new name on it) and things like doctors' contact information for whoever ended up being the Hardys' new family doctor. 

Fenton had gotten his own personal records copied, and given his two-weeks' notice with the detective firm he worked for. The orphanage had to be told of the move, and the new address and phone number given to them. (And what kind of street name was "High", anyway? Frank thought. Although the idea of living on Elm street seemed kind of cool to him. He had seen Nightmare on Elm Street, after all.) 

The Hardys' neighbors gave them a going away party, which was a surprise to all of them, and quite appreciated. This took place on their last day in the neighborhood, and Laura was highly grateful that she wouldn't have to cook that night. She was understandably very tired, and there was more than enough food at the party to count as supper. The Hardys went to bed well fed that night. 

Exactly one month into summer vacation, all of the boxes and furniture was packed into the moving van, any very special belongings were packed safely into the family's two cars, and they said their last good-byes to the house. 

The journey was not exceedingly long; they did stay on the road most of the day, but they did not have to stay in a hotel for the night. They reached the town of Bayport around midnight, and spent twenty minutes locating their new home. The moving van had beaten them there, and the men had already sought out a hotel for the night. The unloading would be accomplished on the morrow! 

Fenton and Laura woke the boys (one in each car to prevent the outbreak of typical car-trip fights) and brought them inside. Joey woke easily enough and stumbled in, but Frank ended up being carried in by Laura. Too tired even to explore their new home, the Hardys slept on the living room floor that night. 

The next morning, Frank opened his eyes to find himself in a strange place; on the floor. At first, he thought that he had fallen out of bed, but no, there _was_ no bed! And stranger still, he was not wearing his pajamas. He was wearing jeans cut-offs and a very wrinkled T-shirt. He sat up, blinking, and looked around. And why was it so hot in here? Wasn't the air conditioning on? 

The sun shone in through curtain-less windows, illuminating a bare, carpeted living room. It was a bigger one than in the house back home, he realized, once he remembered where he was. Joey still slept curled up on the floor (also in his clothing), and he could hear his parents outside, talking with the movers. 

Rubbing his eyes, Frank stumbled outside to see what his new neighborhood looked like. The houses were different, of course, but it still looked fairly similar. It was a big, tree-lined street, with one and two story houses all along it. Their house was an old, big, white one with two stories, a basement, and an attic. The Hardys had gotten a good deal on the mortgage, and their payments would not be much higher than they had been before, and the house was bigger. Three was an extra bedroom, as well as the full attic. 

"Morning, Frank!" Fenton called from the truck, where he was helping the movers with the heavy, oak entertainment center. "Look out, kiddo, big stuff comin' through!" 

Frank, having little desire to be run over by the entertainment center, moved aside. "Don't step on Joey," Frank told them as they maneuvered the piece of furniture inside. 

"Thanks, son," said Fenton. The warning seemed a positive sign until Frank finished his comment. 

"Yeah...or else you'll trip and break the TV shelf." 

Okay, Fenton thought, maybe not. He said nothing for the moment, however, simply continued helping the movers get their belongings into the house. After all, the more people worked on it, the faster it went. 

Eventually, Joey woke up, and both boys were recruited to help bring in whatever they were able to carry. All in all, the six people emptied the truck fairly quickly. The boys had been allowed to choose their rooms, aside from the master bedroom, and their belongings had been brought there. Fenton and Laura's things were in their room, and the furniture and items that belonged in the rest of the house were sitting on the living room floor, ready to be sorted, arranged, and unpacked. 

"Well!" said Laura, standing up and grimacing as her back crackled. "Ahh, that's better. Well, I'm starving. Who's up for some breakfast?" 

"Me!" Frank and Joey cried in unison. 

"Me too," said Fenton. "Although none of our kitchen equipment is out. Let's just go to a Denney's, or something. Sound good to you?" 

"Sounds fabulous to me," said Laura, who had not felt much like cooking. Joey said he was hungry enough to eat the whole restaurant, and Frank said he was okay with the decision as well. And so the Hardys left to enjoy a well-earned breakfast. 

In the coming days, Frank noticed that Mom and Dad had seemed to be hurrying to get the house in order, and for that, he was grateful. He had never moved anywhere before, but he decided he did not like it at all. Aside from moving from a home he was familiar with, and leaving people he liked, and going to a new school it disturbed him to see all their belongings in boxes like that. It felt empty and lonely when he'd woken to see a bare living room, windows without drapes, a kitchen with nothing in the cupboards. He liked things much better once the rooms were filled, their old stuff put in storage in the attic, and their camping equipment and sleds and the like put in the basement. It felt far more like home, and none of the rooms were barren. 

He did like his new room, though. It was bigger than his old one, and the window ledge was big enough for a grown man to sit on if he wished. It was quite big enough for Frank to sit on, and watch the world outside. That would be great for storms, he thought. He enjoyed watching storms, always had. Unlike most children, Frank had never been scared of thunder or lightning. It was summer now, and he hoped that New York had good thunderstorms. 

The room Joey had chosen was one on the corner, and there were two windows in it. He liked the windows, for the sunlight that would be let though them. His few belongings were arranged to the boy's liking, which ended up being haphazardly placed around the room on the floor. Joey liked the new house very much, and when he wasn't helping the Hardys move in, he had run all around it, up and down the stairs, and investigating everything that he could reach. 

The day after the Hardys were completely moved in, Frank and Joey were outside playing in the front yard, while their mother went about setting up a garden around the side. This day, Frank seemed to be more tolerant of his new brother than usual, and Fenton and Laura were grateful to this, as they were both very busy. Fenton was setting up his study, getting it ready for when he went into business for himself, and Laura had been busy all day making the house their home. 

As Joey was seeing how high he could climb in the big tree out front, and Frank was trying to see if this tree would be good for a treehouse, another boy came walking curiously towards the lawn. He was a very chubby little boy, about Joey's age, and he looked at them shyly without saying anything. Frank tentatively waved. 

"Hi," the chubby boy replied, smiling uncertainly, and lifting his own hand in a little wave. 

"Hi," Frank replied, walking over towards him. Joey climbed downwards to hang nearly upside down in order to peer below the foliage of the tree. 

The visitor smiled. "I'm Chet. What's your name?" 

"Frank," said Frank. 

Chet seemed to be a fairly shy boy, but seemed equally pleased to have met a new kid. He was about to reply, but ended up being slightly startled by Joey's voice, from in the tree. "Hi! I'm Mik-, er, Joey!" Joey liked his new name, but remembering he had one was not always easy. The little boy climbed from the tree and also ran over, while Frank rolled his eyes. 

Chet cocked his head at Joey's verbal stumble, but did not comment. "Hi. Are you guys gonna stay here?" 

"Yep!" Joey said with a grin. "Where do you live?" Joey missed the scowl that Frank was sending his way. 

"Well...I live on a farm, it's that way," Chet said, pointing towards the more rural part of town. "But my mom's visiting her friend, she lives across the street." Again he pointed, indicating a dark green house directly opposite the Hardys'. 

"A real farm?" said Joey excitedly. "I was never on a farm before!" 

Chet smiled. "I could ask my mom if you can come see it." 

"Okay!" Joey looked up at a woman's voice from across the street, calling Chet's name. He grinned and waved at the woman, and she smiled back, and waved also. 

"I gotta go," said Chet. 

"Bye!" 

Chet grinned at the boys before looking both ways, and then running across the street to join his mother. There was man there, also, and a little girl that was even younger than Joey was. Joey went back to climbing his tree, while Frank scowled. He had been talking to the new boy! Why did Joey have to just butt in? 

Eventually, Frank stalked inside and shut himself up in his room. 

The Hardy boys met Chet a few more times in the next week, when his mother came into town to visit. The fourth time, Chet's mother came over to talk to the Hardys, and the grown-ups spent a few hours talking, and getting to know each other. The boys played in the backyard, while the adults talked, and after a while, Chet's little sister came into the yard to play, also. Chet kept trying to make her go back inside, but finally his mother told him he was to play with her for a little while. This had caused some sulking on Chet's part, but Frank's suggestion to play hide-and-seek banished the gloom from the boy's round face. It was something they could all participate in, and where Chet's sister, Iola, would not seem so pesky. 

The meeting turned into an impromptu barbecue, during which everyone stuffed themselves silly. Joe draped himself all over the porch, claiming that his stomach was as big as Fenton's car. Frank groaned and slumped back in his seat, expressing the worry that his own stomach might blow up. Chet pretended to die of overeating. 

"Wow," said Laura. "That's amazing. I guess you three don't want ice cream, then." To the amusement of the adults, the boys were miraculously cured, and stood up with hopeful faces. Laura laughed. "You sure? I wouldn't want anyone's stomach to burst, or get bigger than the house or anything." 

"One dish of ice cream'll only make my stomach get a little bigger," Joey said, walking up to Laura and grinning. "Honest!" 

She did finally give in and give the boys a bit of chocolate ice cream, which they ate with gusto. Iola also got a dish and ate hers over by her mother. 

Soon after that, Chet, Iola, and their parents said that they had to get back to the farm. "I really enjoyed the visit," said Chet's mother, shaking hands with Laura. "We'll have to have you at the farm soon for a good, old-fashioned, home-cooked dinner." 

"Yeah, an' you can see all the animals and stuff!" Chet told his new friends. 

"Cool!" said Frank. 

Laura smiled. "We'd like that very much. I'm glad to have finally met you all! Frank and Joey have been talking about you all week." 

Frank and Joey waved as the Mortons headed out the gate. 

Once the guests were gone, Frank and Joey were herded inside for baths, and then bed. Though both boys were about dead on their feet, they put up a protest at sleeping. But the protests were easily defeated, and soon both were sleeping soundly. "Well?" said Fenton when Laura and he were down in the living room alone. "I think that this is going to work out." 

Laura sighed and leaned against him. "Which part? The new house, your new job, or Frank and Joey?" 

"Yes," said Fenton, referring to all three. They both laughed softly, and then Fenton stood. "Well, I'm meeting with Chief Collig tomorrow. I'd better get my sleep." 

Laura nodded. "I'll be going job hunting the next few days, so I'm right there with ya." And so, they went to bed. 


	4. Chapter 4

4

In the weeks the passed, the Hardys settled into their new lives. Fenton got to know the local police and became reacquainted their chief, a stern-faced man named Ezra Collig. Fenton had known him, briefly, when he was a cop in New York City, and he would have to have the chief's signature and approval to gain his P.I. license. 

Collig was given all of Fenton's records and paperwork, and had verified that he had worked for an investigative firm for a little over three years. He checked Fenton's records from his years as a police officer in the state of New York several years before that. And then Fenton had had to complete a written test. This was little problem for him, as he knew the law backwards and forwards. 

And finally, Fenton gained his license, and began setting up his agency. 

Frank and Joey's time was spent either avoiding each other, or playing together amid a sort of unspoken truce. It was easy to see that Frank was having a difficult time adjusting to suddenly having another boy around the house, a boy very close in age with Frank, who competed for many things. Their parents' attention was not the least of these things. Laura Hardy had found a job in town as a salesperson in a furniture/appliance store, and worked a full week. When she was home, she did pay the boys quite a bit of attention, but there were now two boys in the house, and it was difficult sometimes not to make one feel left out. And then there was Fenton. Fenton was busier than he ever was, getting his fledgling business off the ground. He did have a very good reputation as an investigator, but it was still quite difficult to start one's own business. And he did not have as much time as he would have liked for his sons. 

As a result, Frank and Joey spent a lot more time together than Frank would have liked. He didn't hate the kid, or even dislike him. But he did resent him. He felt bad sometimes, and it was then that he would seek Joey out and ask if he wanted to play tag, or ball, or go to the playground with Chet if he was in the area. Frank would see the unrepressed delight in Joey's face, and it would even make Frank feel good. There were times that he did like being a big brother. 

But then at home, he would see Fenton pick Joey up and swing him around and think, 'if Joey wasn't here, Dad'd be doing that with me.' Or he would see his mother kiss Joey's forehead and wish that Joey weren't here. It wasn't that either parent doted no Joey at Frank's exclusion... But Joey being there meant less time for Frank. 

Frank knew that how he was thinking was selfish, and he knew that at times, it was unkind. But he also knew that he couldn't help it, and the "sad" that he felt was real. And who liked being sad? 

"Why do you feel sad?" asked Fenton one night, after supper was finished and Joey was expending his excess of energy climbing trees in the backyard. 

Frank bit his lip. Fenton's voice was gentle and curious, and held no accusation, but Frank felt guilty all the same. He shrugged. "I just do." He had blurted this out that night at supper, that he always felt sad, and he didn't like it. 

"Is it because of Joey?" 

Frank shrugged again, and then nodded, biting hard on his lip. 

"Care to talk about it?" 

There was nothing for a good two minutes as Frank stared at the floor, trying to decide. _Did_ he want to discuss it? What if his dad thought he was acting like a brat? He couldn't stand it when his father or his mother showed disapproval. Disapproval was something that Frank did not take well. But then, maybe if they knew how bad the whole thing made Frank feel, they'd do something about it! With this encouraging, if not exactly charitable thought in his head, Frank said, "I'm sad...I'm sad because Joey took part of you guys!" 

Fenton blinked, looking at Frank for a moment, and then stood up. "C'mon, son, let's go up into my study, okay? I think we need to talk." 

Frank looked up uncertainly; he always thought that the words "we need to talk" had a rather ominous sound to them, and he thought that even the words "you're in big trouble" weren't a whole lot scarier. But when he looked up at Fenton's face, he saw no anger or disapproval, in fact he was smiling fondly at his son. But he seemed a little sad, also! Marveling at this, Frank followed his father upstairs without a word. 

Fenton's new office was one of the bedrooms on the second floor, and Frank had not yet been in it. Not that he had been forbidden, he simply hadn't the interest. Now he took a moment to look around. Fenton's big, oak desk stood on the wall opposite the door, nice and neat, with a cup full of pens and a few plastic trays of papers. Two large filing cabinets stood along the same wall. To one side was a closet, which Frank could see was empty, and Dad's computer station (large desk, lots of disks, and fairly new computer system). To the other side was a large cabinet with a lock, and here Frank assumed his father had his gun and its ammo, and probably some things like handcuffs and the like that he had sometimes used in his detecting. Dad's office chair was behind the oak desk, and two comfortable chairs had been put in front. Fenton sat in one of these, and invited Frank to do the same, so that both of them sat in front of the desk. 

"First off," Fenton started. "Know that you're not in trouble. I suspected you might be a bit worried about that." 

Frank nodded, looking unhappy. 

"Now...when you say that Joey took part of us...what did you mean?" 

Frank fidgeted for a moment, before answering. "Well...you know. You guys don't have a lot of time, and the time you DO have, you give a lot of it to Joey! But you used to just give it to me." He bit his lip, knowing even at seven that it sounded selfish. "I can't help it..." 

Still using the same calm, kind tone, Fenton asked, "Do you think that we love you any less?" 

Frank shrugged. "No...I guess not. But you gotta divide your love because there's two of us, now. So I lost some." 

At this, Fenton chuckled, leaning forward to smooth Frank's hair back, and tilted his head a bit so their eyes could meet. "Absolutely not. While yes, perhaps our attention may be a bit divided, our love never will be. I read an article one time about a woman who had a great many children. I think they might have all been adopted. Even so. Someone asked her, how do you divide your love among so many kids? And she looked at him and said, 'you don't divide your love, you multiply it.'" He looked at the confused expression on his boy's face and explained. "Love it not something that you only have so much of. Human hearts can hold infinite amounts. When a new person that you love comes into your life, that new person just gives you a whole lot more love to work with. So no one loses any love. Time, perhaps, because time doesn't cooperate a whole lot with human beings." 

The boy laughed a little, nodding his head. He went to school, he could easily understand that concept! "Time sucks." 

Fenton nodded. "It does." He got from his chair and went to his son, hugging him. "I know that Joey's coming to live with us has been a great change for you, Frank," he said quietly. "But he does love us, and us him. And I know that he loves the idea of having a big brother. He tells everyone that talks to him." 

Frank blinked. "He does? I never heard that." 

"I can only assume that he is a bit shy of saying it in front of you. But he does say it. Perhaps...instead of trying to compete in certain things with Joey..._share_ them with him. Like when you go play with Chet. Try not to think of it as you and Chet being friends, but as the three of you being a _group_ of friends. Or when you and Mom are playing a game...play the game with her _and_ Joey. And then everyone is included. Oh not all the time, of course. Everyone likes a little private time with their parents. But sometimes." 

With a small sigh, Frank finally nodded. "Okay. I can try." 

Fenton beamed at him. "Thank you. I'm glad." 

"I just...I wish he'd quit butting in all the time! Like when I first met Chet, he just came and started talking. Or if I'm doing something, he'll come in and want to do it, too. It's like he takes everything that I'm doing and makes it his, or ours. Not just mine." 

Fenton nodded understandingly. "I can see where that would frustrate you. Perhaps you can talk to him? He might simply be eager to participate; he likes to get into everything. He's very hyperactive, which doesn't help. But talk to him. Tell him, in a nice way, how some of that makes you feel. See if he doesn't calm down a bit. You may find he simply didn't realize it upset you." 

After a few moments, Frank nodded. "Okay, I can do that." 

"Good boy. Now let's go down and get some ice cream, hmm?" 

At this suggestion, Frank brightened a bit, and they went down to gain some chocolate ice cream. Joey joined them, hot and sweaty from his adventures in the backyard, and had some too. 

After that little talk, things between the new-made brothers seemed to be going better than they had. Frank turned eight, and had a birthday party in the middle of August, and they invited Chet and his family, along with another boy they had made friends with; an Italian child named Tony Prito, who had the slightest bit of an accent. All of the children had a fantastic time. 

School was to start in a matter of two weeks, and the boys were taken to get their school supplies and some new clothing. Frank would be going into the third grade, and at six and a half, Joe would be going into the first. 

Things were a lot better once the boys were in school. The first and third graders did nothing together, and so Frank got a little bit of a separation from Joe. Tony was in Frank's class, while Chet was in Joe's. And for a while, the boys got along with each other fine. 

For a month, this truce lasted, until the end of September, when it shattered rather dramatically. Frank had joined a Cub Scout pack, and had talked excitedly about it for a very long time. Joey also wanted to be in Scouts, but was not old enough for a Cub Scout pack. He could be a Tiger Scout, which took care of the first-grade age group, but Joey did not want to be a Tiger Scout. He wanted to be in the pack with Frank. Making a spectacular display of his bull-headed stubborness, Joey was being petulant and unreasonable about the whole thing, asking why he couldn't be in Frank's pack until Frank finally lost his temper. 

The two boys were standing outside of school after Friday's classes, about to walk home, when Joey began asking once more _why_ he couldn't be in Frank's Scout pack. Frank turned and yelled. "You're too young! I already told you, dummy!" Joe's scowl, half angry, half hurt, only spurred Frank's own anger. He did not have a very quick temper, but when it did flare, it was like a powder keg. "Don't be mad at _me_! You're the one that keeps whining! You don't have to do everything I do, leave me _alone_, I don't _want_ you with me all the time! And quit _crying_, it's your fault!" Frank knew as soon as he said it that he had been quite unkind, even as bratty as Joe had been, but felt no urge to take it back. 

Joey's fists clenched, and tears began streaming down his face. "Fine!" he yelled. "I don't wanna be with you anyway! I don't like you! I thought you were my big brother, I guess you're not!" He kicked the older boy in the shin, and then ran off heading down the street toward home. 

Frank felt a pang of guilt for having made the boy cry, but he also felt that he was justified in this outburst! He didn't want to share everything in his life! Was there something wrong with wanting some things to be his and his alone? Why wouldn't Joe leave him alone? 

Glad that none of their friends were there (though several students he didn't know too well had watched the altercation), Frank fumed for several moments before stomping away from the school building. 

For a half hour or so, Frank walked in the streets, trying to calm himself down and get rid of all his anger. He spent nearly the whole time ranting silently in his head about Joey and why he had to come and live with them. He would have stayed out all night, but he knew that his parents would worry if he was too late, and so he headed for their new house. He had no wish to be grounded, after all! Maybe they would let him go and vent his feeling in the woods behind their house. 

That was one thing he did like about this new house. There was a huge forest right behind it, and he could go and run and explore the forest when he had permission. It was a great place for adventure and exploring games. And when he wanted to be alone, the forest seemed to be good at getting rid of the angry or sad feelings. And if he took the cell phone with him, he was allowed to go pretty far. 

Yes, he decided. When he got home he would ask his parents if he could go out in the woods. 

Unfortunately, he did not get the chance. 

When he walked in, his father was not there, but Laura was there, watching television. When Frank walked in, she frowned. "Where's Joey?" she asked. 

Frank shrugged. "I thought he went home." 

"You thought...didn't you walk him home?" 

"No. I got mad at him and he got mad at me, and he left like a big baby." 

Laura stood up, frowning. "Frank Hardy, you know better than to leave him alone! He's only six...and he did not come home!" Frank scowled darkly but did not quite dare to tell him mother off. "All right, young man, get in the car. We need to find him." She stood up and bustled around the room, searching for her car keys. 

Frank watched in the most sullen of tempers. It wasn't his fault that Joey was being a brat! He didn't tell him to stomp off without waiting for him! "It's not my fault," he sulked. "He kept being a brat, then got mad 'cuz I yelled at him!" 

Laura grabbed her keys from the kitchen table and came back out, heading out the door. "How was he being a brat?" 

Frank could tell that she was annoyed with him, which made him all the angrier. It wasn't fair that she was mad at him. Would she be mad at Joey, too? "He kept whining about Scouts! He kept saying 'why? why?' and I kept telling him he's too young, he's gotta be in Tiger Scouts! But he wouldn't leave me alone so I yelled at him and he stomped off!" He opened the passenger door and slammed it once he was inside the car. 

"Don't slam the doors," said Laura as she got in and started the car. "And buckle up. Why did you have to yell at the boy? He's only doing it because he likes you, and wants to be with you. You should be flattered." 

For a long time, Frank did not answer; he was fighting tears of frustration. That's what they always said! 'You should be flattered they like you so much. You shouldn't yell at them, they only do it because they like you.' Whether it was Joey, or a younger child who tagged along with whatever group they were with at the time! Didn't adults ever want to be alone? Didn't they ever want to have at least one thing only they did, that no one else in their family did? Didn't they want to be different, instead of having someone else doing everything they liked to do? 

He did not answer his mother's comment, he only sat with his arms crossed in the passenger seat. They began cruising the streets around their home and the school, the front windows down, calling the boy's name on occasion. Frank did not call; he was too angry. 

It actually took long enough to find Joey that Laura had been very close to calling the police. But as she and Frank drove onto a dead-end street, with a city park along one side of it, Laura caught a snatch of a very young voice crying. She stopped the car and told Frank to stay inside while she went to see; even if it wasn't Joey, the sound of a child's crying concerned her. 

The woman headed towards the sound of the voice, crossing half the park before she could discern where the voice was coming from. As the sun set behind the trees of the park, Laura caught sight of a small figure huddled by a small stream in the park, crouching behind a large bush. It was quite dark here in the trees, and Laura had to squint to determine that it was, indeed, Joey. She said his name softly, and then again slightly louder when he didn't move. 

At Laura's voice, Joey's head snapped up, revealing a dirty, tearstained face with wide, alarmed eyes. But then the look of fear was replaced by one of frantic relief, and the boy scrambled to his feet and ran to Laura, flinging his arms around her and sobbing into her clothing. 

"Oh, Joey," said Laura quietly, kneeling to hug the boy. "Shhh, shh...it's all right. You're okay." It was a few moments before she realized that Joey was not just crying, he was letting loose a stream of near-frantic words, and only after a couple of moments of straining, could she understand what the boy was saying. Apparently he had thought that Frank was behind him as they headed home, but when next he turned around, there had been only an empty street. Joey had looked around for Frank before beginning to get very scared, and running from street to street, looking for either Frank or the house. He had found neither. When it began to get dark, Joey was afraid that he'd been left for good, and that no one was going to come and find him. 

Laura closed her eyes and rocked the boy. "Joey," she whispered. "Joey, we would never, ever just leave you like that. I'm very sorry you got lost, and scared... Frank and I have been looking for you all afternoon." She smoothed the little boy's damp hair and drew his head back a bit so she could look at him. "Are you okay, sweetie? Did you get hurt, or anything?" 

Joey shook his head, his chest hitching in the aftermath of his sobs. "N-no, I just fell once an' scraped my knees." 

"Uh oh," said Laura in a light tone. "We'll have to fix that up at home, okay? C'mon, let's go back to the car." She took the boy's grimy hand and led him out of the park. Still sniffling, Joey held on tight. 

The ride home was silent and tense; Joey sat in the backseat, sniffling now and then, and mom looked straight ahead as she drove home. Frank sat with his arms crossed, feeling that the whole thing was very unfair. 

It was dusk when Laura pulled the car into the garage and closed the door; the light overhead switched on automatically. Everyone got out of the car, and Frank had time to smell the oil and wood and concrete of the garage before he and Joey were being herded inside. 

Laura urged Joey to go on up and take a hot bath and get washed up, and he agreed, scampering up the stairs. Frank deliberately turned away so he wouldn't have to look at him. 

"You are grounded, Frank Hardy. Until further notice." 

Frank looked up in astonishment, his mouth agape. "Grounded?" he sputtered. "But why? Just 'cuz I yelled at him?" 

"No. Because you have been mean to him almost since he came home with us. Because you yelled at him today, and mostly because you let him go off by himself. Do you have any idea how scared he was, Frank? Have you any idea?" 

"But he -" 

"I don't care; you are the older one, Frank. You shouldn't have let him walk off, and left him like that." 

Frank stomped him foot in an expression of helpless frustration. "He stomped off! He's the one who left! Is _he_ gonna get grounded for not staying with me?" 

"No, he is not. Do you know what he said to me when I found him? He said he'd thought we had left him, and weren't going to come and get him." 

Frank frowned, surprised for the moment out of his anger. That was a stupid thing to think! Why wouldn't they come get him? Maybe Frank wouldn't have wanted to go look if he had a choice, but his parents _adopted_ the kid. Why would they just leave him? 

"Do you know why he was in the orphanage?" she demanded angrily. Frank shook his head. "Because his father had died when he was three, and his mother did not want to raise a child alone. She brought Joey to the orphanage, dropped him off, and walked out of the building." 

At first, Frank thought that his mother must be kidding; no mother would ever do that to their own kid, would they? He tried to imagine his own mother doing that, and had to stop before he started crying. 

His shock must have shown on his face, because Laura nodded grimly. "I'm dead serious. And Joey is still very afraid of that happening again. If his own blood mother didn't want him, he wonders if maybe we will get sick of him too." 

Frank scowled suddenly, resenting the jolt of guilt that was jabbing at his gut. Joey had started the whole thing! And it hadn't been Frank's intention to make Joey think he was being abandoned! "Well fine, so I made him feel bad, I didn't mean to, you know! He was the one who wouldn't leave me alone!" 

Laura sighed, putting her fingers to her head. "Go on up to your room. We'll talk about this later," she finally said. 

"But -" 

"_Now_, Frank!" 

Clenching his fists angrily, Frank turned and stomped as hard as he could up the stairs. Grown-ups were so unfair! And he _hated_ when they kept interrupting him and not letting him speak! They never let kids do that! Why should grown-ups be allowed to be rude? Rude was rude, no matter who was doing it. 

Feeling very wronged, he slammed the door to his room as hard as he could and flung himself on his bed. Away from those who would be witness, he finally allowed himself to cry angry tears. Angry, and a little hurt. It wasn't fair. How come Joey never got in trouble? Seething with resentment and frustration, Frank lay on his bed and thought uncharitable thoughts. 

Nearly an hour later, Frank was still feeling resentful, but the edge had been taken off his rage. He looked up at the sound of someone turning his doorknob, and frowned at his mother's face, which appeared from around the door. "How come I have to knock on your door, but you can come in my room without even asking?" Frank said, his tone surly. He wasn't in the mood to be polite, and didn't care if he got in trouble for it. 

To his astonishment, Laura did not get mad, only looked slightly taken aback. And then she said, "You're right, my apologies. I just wanted to talk to you. Would you rather I waited?" 

For a moment, Frank was too surprised to answer, and then he shrugged. "I guess you can come in." 

His mother did not look angry anymore as she came into Frank's room and sat on his bed. He scootched to the other side of it, still not forgiving enough for any kind of contact. "I decided it best to wait until we were both a little calmer," said Laura. Frank shrugged, staring at his bedsheet. "First of all, I am only grounding you to the house tomorrow." 

"You're still not grounding Joey?" 

"No." 

Frank scowled darkly. 

"Would you like to know why?" 

"I _know_ why," said Frank, standing up and walking to the other side of the room. "You like him better than me." 

Now it was Laura's turn to be astounded. "_What_?" 

"It's true!" Frank cried, his anger suddenly back in full force. "Ever since Joey came, you an' Dad don't have any time for me, an' he can do anything he wants an' never gets yelled at, but I can't! I just want him to leave me alone sometimes, but he doesn't, an' you guys don't get mad at him for it or make him stop! You just tell me that I have to let him tag along all the time! You guys don't le me be with _you_ all the time, how come I have to with Joey?" He wiped furiously at his eyes. 

For a good few moments, Laura only stood there, and then she closed her eyes. "Oh, Frank, I hadn't realized... Come here. C'mere, baby." 

She stepped towards Frank with her arms out, and had she not called him "baby", he might have refused. As it was, the uncommon term of endearment made him let her hug him, as he cried. 

"I'm sorry," said Laura quietly. "I hadn't realized how this all must have looked to you." She held Frank for a while, finally sitting on the bed and sort of half-pulling him onto it next to her. "Dad and I did have a reason for being a little lenient with Joey. He's in a new situation, he's had a bit of a rough childhood. But we didn't think how it would look to you. I certainly do not like either one of you more than the other. Nor do I love either of you any more than the other." She grasped his chin and raised his head. "I will speak with Joey tonight, okay? Explain to him that you sometimes need your space and that you are to be left alone when you really want to be. And I'll have you both stay home tomorrow. Perhaps you can spend some time in your room reading? A little bit of alone time?" 

Red-eyed, Frank nodded his head. "Okay." It did actually sound good to him. He hadn't spent a lot of time reading as of late. 

"Okay." Laura bent and kissed her son's hair and gave him another brief hug. "I'm sorry you've been feeling shot out. We'll try and fix that, okay?" 

Frank nodded, and watched Laura leave his room. He suddenly felt very tired, but oddly, he felt a lot better than he had a half hour before. He wasn't glad that this whole, miserable incident happened, but he was happy at the end results. He just wished that they had been achieved another way. 

He heard a knock on Joey's door, and Frank noticed that she had never knocked on Joey's door, either. Maybe adults just had to be told sometimes that they were being rude, Frank thought, not without a sense of wonder. Maybe they didn't know it at the time. Frank could not hear them talking, but was sure that Mom was talking to Joey about letting Frank be, as she had promised. 

At supper, Joey looked a little bit unhappy, but he didn't say anything to Drank, and Frank returned the favor. It was just the two boys and Laura this time, as Fenton was out of town for a couple of days on the first big case of his solo career. 

After the meal, Frank retired to his room to read until bedtime. He was glad of the opportunity; he had forgotten how lost he could get in a book. And that was a good thing! 

Laura came and tucked him in when it was bedtime, something she did not always do. Frank was glad of it. And she knocked before she came in. 

The weekend turned out a lot better than it had started. Frank spent the whole of Saturday reading in his room, and no one bothered him except for mealtimes. And on Sunday, his mother said that she'd convinced Joey to play in his room for the day. She and Frank spent the day playing board games and generally spending time together. 

"I told Joey he needed to back off a bit," she said that afternoon as they played War with a deck of playing cards. "He was disappointed, and seemed fairly stubborn about it, but I insisted, and he finally agreed. I also explained to him about Cub Scouts, and how the ages worked, and told him not to get angry at you for someone else's rules." 

"You did?" Frank was mildly surprised, but very pleased. "Thanks. I don't think he believed me." 

"Possibly not. At any rate, he knows now. Now, I don't want you to push him away completely. I'll expect you to spend _some_ time with him. Okay?" 

Frank nodded. "I will." 

"Okay." Laura ruffled the boy's hair, then looked at the cards; they had set down the same number. "Ah - it's war!" 

After that hand (that secured a victory for Laura), she said it was time to start supper. Frank went into the kitchen to help, and when Joey came in and wanted to help too, Frank didn't even mind. 

To top it all off, Fenton returned that night, and was greeted with a gale of enthusiasm from the two boys. He was tired, but not so that he couldn't grab the kids in a tight hug and lift them off the ground for a moment. He chuckled as Frank pretended to have the breath choked out of him. 

"Did you fight bad guys?" Joey asked. "Did they fight back? Did you have a gun?" 

Frank's question was a little less violent. "Did you put anyone in jail?" 

"No, no, yes, and yes," Fenton said, and the boys both laughed. "Actually I can't say a whole lot about it. But yes, Frank, I did gather enough information about a certain someone to put him in jail." Despite his fatigue, Fenton was beaming. "Not bad for my first big job, eh? And now, I am starved. The airline served something that they claimed was food, but I had my doubts." 

Frank giggled. "Like the school food?" 

"_Worse_." 

That _was_ impressive! Frank and Joey followed their father into the kitchen, where husband and wife celebrated Fenton's return with a big, mushy kiss. On this, both Frank and Joey could agree. 

"Euuuuu!" they cried in unison. 

Laura laughed and kissed Fenton again, earning another sound of disgust. 

Supper was a talkative, cheerful affair, and Frank went to bed content. 


	5. Chapter 5

5

After that weekend, the tentative truce returned between Joey and Frank. Joey didn't pester Frank so often, and in turn, Frank was more tolerant of the boy. He even had a lot of fun with him sometimes. And as Laura and Fenton were both making an effort not to make Frank feel pushed out, and still make Joey a welcome member of the family, Frank did not resent the younger boy so much. In fact, as summer gave way to autumn, and the weeks once again went by, Frank hardly ever felt anger towards his new brother. Once the jealousy began to fade, Frank could begin to enjoy having a little brother to protect. 

The the truce strengthened. 

For the most part, the Hardys were finding the people of Bayport to be quite nice and welcoming. There were some that were rude, some that would tease Frank or Joe, but that could not be avoided anywhere in the world. In fact it happened very little with Frank, who was quiet and studious, but still liked playing things like baseball. Joey tended to get a little more flak because he was outspoken and hyperactive...and quite small for his age. People like that were considered easy targets for bullies. What he had to deal with most were kids who said he wasn't a "real" kid, that he was only adopted. He was certainly sick of hearing comparisons with stray dogs and cats! And unfortunately he was getting into more fights than should be necessary. 

Fenton suggested that Joey attend the same karate class that Frank had started in three weeks before, to learn to defend himself, but Joey didn't want to; Frank's class was quite traditional, and Joey hadn't the patience for such a class. He said he could take care of himself. Of course he usually lost his fights, but at least he proved he was no coward. That was evident, even at the age of six. 

One chilly Saturday, two days before Halloween, Frank and Joey had gone down to the school playground, where there were seven or eight other youngsters making use of the equipment. Frank had gone over to the swings, admonishing Joey not to leave the schoolyard, and spent several moments enjoying the wind in his face. Joey went off into the play tunnels on the other side of the yard, where there were also suspension bridges and tires to climb on. Joey liked to climb. 

The boys had been there maybe twenty minutes when Frank heard Joey's voice, sounding very peeved. "He IS TOO my brother, and he is _not_ a wimp! He could beat you guys up!" 

"Yeah right!" came another voice, one Frank didn't know. He frowned and began slowing his wide arcs so that he could go investigate. "We'd punch his stupid face in!" 

"Yeah, we don't like people who kiss up to the teacher!" 

There was a silence for a moment, and then Joey's angry holler, "Don't PUSH me, you turd!" For such a small kid, Joey could certainly yell loudly! 

Frank jumped off the swing right as he heard the sound of a fist hitting flesh. He wasn't sure who had punched whom, until he heard Joey yell. Scowling darkly, Frank sprinted to where the uproar was. 

When he got behind the play structure, he saw a pair of boys he recognized; one was in his grade, the other was a second-grader. Both were older and bigger than Joey was, and all were rolling around on the ground, fighting. Joey was obviously getting the worst of this fight, though not for lack of trying. 

Frank felt something very like fury erupt in his gut at seeing this unfair bit of bullying, and he darted in, grabbing one boy's jacket and flinging him off of the kid-pile. While the first bully was distracted by the sudden intervention, Frank tried the same with the other kid, who was in the process of trying to pound Joey's face. But this one was bigger than Frank, too, and he hadn't the strength. Thwarted, Frank kicked him in the side, using what he had been learning from his martial arts classes. 

The second boy, the bigger one, yelled in pain and sprawled in the dirt. Frank pulled Joey to his feet and got between him and the two older boys. Joey was crying, but he also looked angry enough to spit nails. 

"Oh look," said the first bully, a contemptuous sneer twisting his young face. "It's the teacher's pet." 

"He is NOT the teacher's pet!" came Joey's voice from behind Frank. Frank made a "calm-down" gesture behind him, and Joey quieted, though he continued to fume. 

Frank looked back at the two boys. "Real brave, beating up a first-grader." 

The boy Frank kicked, the one who was in Frank's class, snorted. "He shouldn't've mouthed off!" 

"Mouthed off?" Frank repeated, incredulous. "You guys started it! Why can't you leave him alone? He didn't do anything to you!" 

"We don't have to leave him alone," said the younger bully. "You're not my dad, you can't tell me what to do!" 

"Yeah," said the older one, as they both advanced. "So why don't you go away before we have to beat you up, too?" 

"Try it," Frank invited. 

The playground's equipment sat forgotten in the autumn wind, as every child in the yard had come to watch. They were very quiet as the little drama played itself out. 

They did, indeed, try it. Frank shoved Joey back and out of the way as the older boy took a swing at Frank. He seemed quite determined to get him back for kicking him, but it was clear he had no training or control over his fighting. He could beat up a small boy, but he couldn't really make much of a match against an intelligent Frank Hardy who had taken karate for three weeks. 

Frank blocked the clumsy punch and shoved the boy back. He was trying not to get too violent, not wanting to get into trouble if he could help it. Turned out he didn't need to; before much else happened, an adult's voice called from the other side of the street. Frank recognized him as one of their new neighbors, who lived across the street from them, and he thought his name might be Mr. Taylor. He was walking his greyhound. "Hey!" he called. "What's going on over there?" 

Alarmed, the two bullies looked toward the voice, saw it was an adult, and ran. 

"I know you guys' names!" Frank called angrily after them as the neighbor headed over to see what was wrong. "An' I'm telling my parents you beat up my brother!" 

Mr. Taylor approached, looking concerned. "You're Frank Hardy, aren't you?" 

Frank nodded, shaking from anger. But even so, his surprise at the rush of sheer protectiveness he had felt seeing those two older boys beating up his brother pushed through his anger. He disliked seeing anyone being a bully, but did not usually react so severely. 

"What happened here?" 

Frank looked around, finally noticing his surroundings again; the gray sky, the chilly air, the dog at the end of Mr. Taylor's leash trying to lick his face. He was a bit surprised to see the ring of kids standing around them. 

As Frank distractedly pet the greyhound, Joey spoke up, his tone one of the sheerest indignation. "Those jerks were laughing at me an' saying I wasn't really Frank's brother. _And_ they said Frank was a wimp! I said no he wasn't, that he could beat them up an' they pushed me so I pushed them back an' one punched me and it turned into a big fight!" 

Frank frowned as he looked at Joey's face. His nose and lip were both bleeding, and it looked like he would have a few bruises. Maybe a black eye. 

"I see," said Mr. Taylor. "Do you know their names?" 

"I do," said Frank quietly. "Mr. Taylor...I should get my brother home, okay?" 

The man nodded. "Of course. Would you like me to walk you home, just in case?" 

At this, Frank actually smiled. "That'd be cool...thanks. Those creeps might just get more people an' try to ambush us." He paused a moment, then looked apprehensively up at the man. "You're not gonna try an' get us in trouble, are you?" 

At this, the middle-aged man chuckled. "No. I've known your family long enough to know that you're good boys. And I have also seen those two bullying others. And even if that weren't the case, it's not my place to discipline another person's children." 

"Oh, good." The fact that an adult had caught him fighting had made him a bit nervous. 

Joey, on the other hand, didn't look nervous at all; he looked mad. He kept glaring down the street to where the two boys had run. 

As the boys and Mr. Taylor were leaving the play yard, Frank heard one of the boys behind them say to his friend, "I wish I knew those moves!" 

Frank turned a bit pink around the cheeks, though with the wind whipping them, he hoped it were not noticeable. However a moment later, when he glanced back down at Joey, the pink in Frank's cheeks deepened to red. And he knew that could not be mistaken for chapped cheeks! Joey no longer looked angry; he was staring at Frank with an expression of the utmost adoration. 

When the boys reached their driveway, Frank turned and thanked their neighbor, who waved, and headed back down the street with the dog. What a cool adult, Frank thought. He had only met the man two or three times, but he always seemed like a nice guy. And now Frank knew he was! 

To Laura's credit, she did not get angry when she saw Joe come in; she only sighed a bit and knelt on the living room floor to look him over. "Another fight?" 

"Yeah, but I didn't start this one," Joey said. "They pushed first!" 

"And what happened then?" 

"I pushed second," said Joey, as if this were only the most logical thing in the world. "And then he hit me so we got in a big fight." 

"Those jerks were both bigger than Joey," seethed Frank. "One's seven, almost eight, and the other's in my class!" 

Laura frowned. "Do their parents know they're bullying younger children?" 

Frank shook his head. "I dunno. If they do, maybe they don't care. I got them off of Joey but Mr. Taylor came and saw what was going on, so the big chickens ran." 

"That's usually how it is with bullies," said Laura. "Do you know their names?" 

Frank nodded. "Yes. Well one's whole name, and the other's first name." 

"All right. Lemme go get Joey patched up, and I'm going to be making a few phone calls, if I can get anyone at the school." 

Frank tagged along as Joey was led upstairs and Laura began gently washing Joey's face with a washcloth. He jerked away a few times, hissing in pain, but he clenched his teeth and put up with the washing. A bit of antiseptic, some soothing gel, and a bandage or two later, and Joey were perfectly cheerful again. 

"That was awesome!" Joey said as they followed Laura downstairs. "You were like a ninja! I bet they don't mess with you again!" 

Frank, who was blushing again, couldn't help a smile. It really felt good to have a younger child's admiration. "I wasn't _that_ good. But they'd mess with me again. They'd just get a whole bunch of other kids, those chickenguts." 

"Yeah!" said Joey, making a fist. "And they ran away when Mr. Taylor came over! What a bunch of chickens!" 

When Fenton returned from the errands he was running and heard the story, he commended Joe for defending his brother, and commended Frank for doing the same, and for his self control in not simply pummeling the bullies. "Though, Joey, next time can you do something for me? If they try shoving you, don't shove back, go to an adult and tell them. That way there's no way you can get in trouble." 

"I guess so..." said Joey, frowning a bit. Then he added in a warning tone, "But they made me _really_ mad! I can't be held rensponserble for what my body does when my brain's mad!" 

Frank stifled a snicker as Fenton blinked, wondering where Joe had picked up that phrase, mangled as it was. "That's understandable," he said after a moment, once the urge to laugh at this dire warning had passed. "Sometimes it's hard to keep your temper. But try, okay?" 

Joey nodded agreeably. "Okay." 

"By the way," said Laura. "The word you want is 'responsible'." 

"Yeah! That too!" 

The next day was Sunday, and Frank asked Joey if he wanted to go out and explore the woods behind the house. "Okay!" he said. 

"Let's go ask Mom and Dad." As Laura had weekends off, and Fenton was not currently on a case, they were both home that day. After breakfast, Frank asked if he and Joey could go out back and explore. 

"Hey, maybe we could have a picnic for lunch!" Joey said. "Can we?" 

The two adults exchanged a glance, and Fenton shrugged. "I don't see why not, as long as you take the cell phone" Laura said. "I can pack you a couple of lunches to take with you in a backpack or something." 

"And make sure to bring a watch. I'll not want you boys back any later then four," Fenton added. "Okay?" 

The boys nodded. "Fair enough!' said Frank with a grin. "There's a really creepy part...north, I think. I'll bring my Boy Scout compass so we don't get lost. Anyways, we might go see if there's any ghosts there." 

Joey's eyes got wide. "Ghosts? Really? Do people think there's any there?" he did not sound alarmed, but excited. 

Frank nodded. "Some of the kids say there's ghosts and stuff in the woods." 

"Awesome! I hope we meet one!" 

"Well if you do," said Fenton in all seriousness, "and it's not a friendly one, don't try and fight it on your own. Call us." 

Frank nodded. "Okay, we will. I bet we won't see one though." 

"You never know." Fenton stood and took his plate, telling his boys that once they had rinsed their dishes and had their lunch that they could go. "Just make sure and dress in some thick jeans and sturdy shoes. There're thorns and ditches out there." 

And so promising, the boys grabbed their dishes and bore them into the kitchen. 

Frank had said he did not mind wearing the backpack that had their lunches and jackets in it. It was quite warmer than it had been the day before, and so neither of them needed the jackets just yet. Joey had convinced Frank to let him hold the compass, though he had no clue how to use it. Frank, who was learning through Scouts, tried to teach him how it worked and found Joey an apt student. "You'll be a good Cub Scout," said Frank, and was rewarded by Joey's beaming smile. 

"Where's the creepy part?" asked Joe. 

"North, I saw it when I exploring last week. And I found a great place that would be great for a fort! It's a kinda clearing, and it's got a big stream near it for water. Maybe Dad could help us build a dam there so we could swim in it!" 

"That'd be awesome!" Joey agreed enthusiastically. "Maybe we could start getting wood and stuff for our fort!" 

"Well it's kinda gettin' cold, we wouldn't have time to get it all finished, and the wood would get all wet and cold and snowy. Let's wait 'til spring. We can plan it though!" 

"Cool! Let's make greenprints of it." 

Frank giggled. "Blueprints." 

"Those too." 

After that, the boys were mostly quiet as they trekked along in the autumn woods. They both wore jeans and a flannel shirt; Joe's was bright red, and Frank's was blue and black checked. Frank wore the hiking boots Fenton had gotten him for Scouts, and Joe was wearing sneakers. Frank was glad that Dad had reminded them to wear thick stuff; there were a lot of evil thorns in here! 

"Ow!" yelped Joey, scowling at a nearby tree; he had not seen a sharp branch jutting out, and it had struck his bruised face. He kicked it, and was startled by an acorn falling on his head. "Owww!" he repeated, this louder and more accusatory. 

Frank turned, his brows raised. "You okay?" 

"No, this tree's attacking me!" Joe glowered at the offending tree for a moment then turned to Frank with a grin. "Too bad you can't karate a tree!" 

Frank laughed at the mental image that this statement inspired. "Man, that'd be weird. Especially if it karate-ed back!" 

"How far is the creepy part?" 

"Just up here, I think. Yeah...there! See that big tree? Look how it's all splintered and black. That means it got hit with lightning." 

"Really? I bet that hurt. When did it get hit?" 

"I don't know. I just know it got hit, because that's what they look like afterwards. And look... Look how all dark it is in there." 

Joey peered in, and saw that Frank was right, it really was creepy. The lightning-struck tree marked the beginning of a particularly dark patch of woods caused by a thick canopy above. The foliage was dense, and there was a kind of musty smell within, like something was rotting. "Whoa. Weird." 

"And these woods are big," said Frank. "Dad says that here's probably right in the very middle. And not a lot of people come here, either, I dunno why." 

"Maybe there's stories about this place! Maybe people went tin an' never came back out!" 

"Maybe," said Frank, also glancing into the trees. "You still wanna go?" 

"Yeah!" 

"Okay. Let's stay together so nothing creepy can get either one of us." 

"Okay." 

And so the boys crept along in the dingy air, looking here and there for signs of supernatural occurrence. A look of anticipation and mild fear were on both faces, but it was clear they were both enjoying the adventure. 

A bit of the anticipation had worn off, however, fifteen minutes into the trek. "Aw, there's no ghosts here," said Joey, sounding highly disappointed. 

"Well I dunno how far the creepy part goes," said Frank. "There might be ghosts farther in! If I was a ghost I would wanna be right in the middle, where it's darkest." 

"How do you know that's the darkest part?" 

"Well, on the edges, all the light from outside gets in, and ghosts don't like light. I don't think, anyways." 

"Oh. Well that makes sense. But what if the ghosts are at the store or something?" 

Frank snickered. "Ghosts don't go to stores. If they did, they'd get seen all over the place!" 

"Well, they could have _ghost_ stores." 

Before Frank could ponder this possibility, a commotion in the tree right next to Frank made both boys scream and duck behind a tree. It had sounded like something small struggling in the branches of the tree! 

"Wh-what was that?" Joey asked, his blue eyes wide and pale in the dimness. 

"I d-dunno," Frank whispered, his eyes on the spot where the noise had come from. "You...You don't think the tree grabbed an animal, do you?" 

At this chilling possibility, Frank and Joe both eyed the tree behind which they were hiding. Frank looked around at all of the trees pressing in, realizing that if he were right, and if the trees decided to go for larger prey, that Frank and Joey would be in big trouble. There was nowhere to avoid them! 

There was silence for a few short moments, and then a hoarse shriek that made Frank and Joey scream again and clutch each other. Their eyes cut once more to the branches of the tree, where there was a flutter of movement, and then, the rustle of wings. Wings? 

All of a sudden, Frank laughed, as he saw what their assailant was. A mangy looking raven had fluttered up angrily from the tree, cawing angrily at something in the branches. A chittering sound answered the raven, and Frank caught glance of a squirrel. 

Frank looked down at Joe, and the boys exchanges a sheepish look. "Er, let's go eat lunch, okay?" said Frank. 

Joey giggled, still a bit nervous, and nodded. "Okay. But not here, okay?" 

"No way, it's still creepy." with a last glance at the retreating raven, Frank took hold of the compass and led them from the darkness. 

The relative warmth of the sunshine dappling through the leaves was a great comfort to the spooked boys, and Joey stopped to enjoy it for a few moments. Frank waited for him for a few moments before saying, "Let's go to that one place I told you about, that's got the little river, and the clearing." 

"Cool! That's where we're gonna build our fort, right?" 

"Yeah! Maybe Dad'll let us make a zoom line from one of the trees down to our fort." 

"A zoom line?" 

"Yeah! You know, like in the movies, it'd s rope that's got a handle that you hold, and zoom down to the ground." 

Joe's eyes widened in recognition. "Oh! Wow, that'd be great! I bet it's better than the slide at the playground." 

"I bet it is too. We'd have to get something soft to land in, 'til we can land on our feet." 

The fort site was not too far away from the creepy trees; it took only a half our to get there, and by then, both boys were quite hungry. "Let's eat lunch first," said Frank, taking off the backpack and walking over to a big rock sitting in the little clearing. It was quite a wide area of brown and yellow grass, with some rocks and deadwood lying about. The sun shone down on the clearing, making it fairly warm, and Joey took off his jacket. 

"What's for lunch?" Joey asked, peering into the backpack. 

Frank handed Joey the brown bag that had his name on it. "Look and see," he invited as he pulled his own lunch out. 

"Cool! Peanut butter." 

"No jelly?" 

"Well yeah," said Joey, now through a mouthful of lunch. "But the peanut butter's the good part." 

"Oh, I didn't know that. Mom made me bologna and cheese. I like it better." Both boys also had a bag of dried fruit, and a small bottle of juice. For several minutes, they sat side by side on the boulder, eating their lunch in companionable silence. 

As Frank started in on his second sandwich, he looked over at his younger brother. It was so strange to think of him as his brother. You didn't usually just gain brothers all of a sudden like that. It was kinda like picking one up at the grocery store. 

Joe's eye had swelled the night before, but today it was only a little puffy and a lot bruised. His cheek and mouth were bruised also, and Frank was sure his gut and sides probably had a bruise or two. But the towheaded boy seemed to show no indication of discomfort. "You were brave yesterday," he finally said to Joey. 

Joey blinked and looked at Frank in some surprise. "I was?" 

"Yeah, telling those guys off for making fun of me. Thanks." 

"Oh..." Joey smiled, looking bashful at the unexpected praise. "Well...you're the one that made them stop hitting me." 

Frank smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah. But you still fought them, even though they're both bigger 'n you. And that's brave!" 

"Oh." It was clear that Joey had never thought about this definition of bravery. "Cool. Thanks." They grinned at each other, then finished their lunch. 

Full of peanut butter and jelly, Joey seemed to have gotten any lost energy back, and then some. He bounced up, looking eagerly at Frank. "What now?" he asked eagerly. 

Frank also stood, though less boisterously. He stuffed the empty bags back in the backpack and shrugged. "I dunno. We can't do too much more, we gotta be home by four. And it's after one." There was silence for a few moments before Frank said, "I know! I'll show you the stream! It's just inside the trees there, I think." 

Joey liked that idea, and so they set into the trees once more. On the way, Joey occasionally climbed a tree or sprinted after a chipmunk. The stream was not that far away, but the way was steep, descending down into a sharp sort of valley. "Hey, look at this!" Joey said, veering off toward the left. Frank followed, and found Joey looking at a huge ditch in the forest floor, and a few vines hanging down from the trees above. 

"Cool!" said Frank. "This'd be a great escape way for when we get the fort built. We'll have to have escape routes and stuff. This one can be a river of lava...and you have to swing over it!" 

"Yeah! With fire sharks inside! An' if you don't swing fast enough, they bite your feet! I'm gonna try it out!" 

"Okay, then me next." 

Joey nodded and backed up several steps to get a running start. He eyed the vine, and the ditch, then ran at it! He grabbed the vine and gave a great leap, sailing easily over the gap. He laughed in sheer delight as he landed on the other side and tumbled into a drift of dead leaves. "Wow!" he exclaimed, jumping up with leaves clinging to his shirt. "That was awesome!" 

Frank noticed that when Joey was happy or excited, that it was highly contagious, and found himself grinning, too. His own leap was a bit more graceful, and he landed on his feet. "Yep, definitely an escape route!" Grinning, he led the way once more down the incline. 

As they went, the sounds of rushing water greeted the boys' ears, and Frank explained that the tail end of the stream ran right along next to the clearing, so that they could use it for their fort, but that the "good" part of the stream was down here. "I dunno if it's a stream or a river," Frank said. "It's either a big stream, or a little river." 

"How do you know if it's a stream or a river?" Joey asked. 

"Just size, I think. There!" He pointed at a bright flash of bluish-brown below; sky and sunlight glinting off the water's surface. Soon they stood at the edge of the water, watching it course past. At this widest part, the stream was about a dozen and a half feet wide, and running fairly smoothly under a thin sheet of ice. They could see the water through jagged holes where the sun had melted the ice. "See? This is so cool. I hope we can dam it up over where it's not as big. This'd make a great place to swim!" 

"Yeah..." said Joey, peering at the ice. A few days before, it had been a solid, of thin sheet of ice from the onset of autumn cold, but with the warm weather it he begun to melt. If one looked closely, he would be able to see intricate patterns of ice made by the irregular melting. "Neat!" 

"Yeah! I wonder if this gets enough ice to skate on! I never ice skated before, did you?" 

Joey shook his head. "No, I roller skated though. I'm not very good at it." 

"Ice skating's harder, I bet." 

"I bet it's fun, though." 

Frank nodded, and knelt down to the water to splash it a bit, and drew back with a theatrical shudder. "Wow, is it cold!" He stood up, drying his hand on his pants, and looked over at Joey to tell him they should start heading back, when his eyes widened in alarm,his body suddenly colder than the water. "Joey, no!" 

For Joey had been about to step out onto the thin sheet of ice suspended from the bank over the flowing stream. 

Too late! Joey turned, startled by Frank's cry, and stepped down on the ice. Crack! Even Joey's slight weight was far too much for the half-melted ice, and he fell through with an alarmed yell. Horrified, Frank ran to the edge of the stream, his fearful eyes catching a flash of Joey's red shirt slip downstream with the current. "No!" he cried again, plunging his arm into the icy water to try and grab him, but the current was too strong. Nearly sobbing with panic, Frank stood again, throwing his pack to the ground, searching frantically for his brother. His heart sank as he caught sight of the red several yards downstream, and sprinted after it. Don't let him die, don't let him die...was all he said, over and over again. 

Could he grab his brother? He had to try! But could Frank swim well enough? He knew how, but was he good enough to pull someone else out of the water? The stream was not ridiculously wide or deep, but enough that it could drown him and Joey! 

A final flash of the red shirt drove all second thoughts out of Frank's mind. The ice got thicker as the stream went on, and if Joey disappeared under there, Frank would never find him again, and he'd drown. 


	6. Chapter 6

6

Frank tore off his own shirt, not wanting it to weigh him down, and wished he had time to take off his heavy boots. Hoping desperately he wouldn't get dragged down, drowning them both, he jumped into the water. 

He very nearly was paralyzed by the shocking cold that suddenly doused his body when he plunged. He gasped, and for several seconds, he fought panic as he tried to convince his nearly numb limbs to move! After the first frozen shock, Frank's desperation compensated enough for him to be able to swim after his brother, knocking aside crumbly chunks of ice. 

The current was not so strong here, Frank was thankful to realize, for Joey was not moving very fast. Frank lunged to grab Joey's shirt, and nearly cried with relief when he got a good handful of sodden flannel. He never could have imagined how strong such a seemingly mild current could be when one was trying to fight it carrying nearly twice the weight one was used to. Frank kept a vice grip on his brother's shirt as he fought with his feet and his free hand to gain the opposite bank. 

The two boys drifted towards the thicker ice, and Frank shot a hand out to try and pull them up onto it, but it broke, plunging them both back in the water. 

It took nearly every ounce of Frank's strength to drag himself and Joey to the bank, and then up away from the water. Too cold even to cry, shivering almost too much to be able to move, Frank crawled over to Joey and began panicking when he saw he wasn't breathing. "Joey!" he yelled "Joey, breathe, you gotta breathe!" The awful sight of the smaller boy's dead-white face and still body made Frank whimper in fear. 

The phone! Frank had the cell phone! Stumbling, barely able to keep his feet, Frank ran along the stream to where he had thrown his bookbag and fumbled until he could get the zipper open. 

Dialing the number with his numb fingers was no easy feat, and for one horrible minute, he thought no one was home, for it rang four times. Though only twenty seconds passed, it seemed like they would _never_ answer! 

And then: "Hello? Frank?" 

"J-Joey fell in the stream, it was icy, an' he t-tried to step on it an' I wan too late he fell in, I got him out but he's not breathing!" Frank was stammering so badly from the cold he almost could not be understood. 

There was a shocked silence, and then Fenton was suddenly all business. "Laura! Call an ambulance, Joey's fallen in the river, he's not breathing! Okay Frank, calm down...are you hurt?" 

"N-no j-just cold!!" 

"Where are you?" 

"B-by th-the stream...it-it's-" Where was it? What direction? Frank closed his eyes, trying to force his chaotic mind to remember what direction they had gone in. "North! We went north, a-an' an' kinda west too! Come quick, please, please come quick!" 

"Okay, okay, Frank calm down and do exactly as I say, okay? Do you remember how to feel for a pulse?" 

"Y-yes but I'm not there I h-had t-to run back for the phone! Hold on I'll run there!" Gripping the phone tightly in his fist, Frank ran back to where he had left Joey lying on the ground, stumbling and falling next to the boy's still form. He grabbed Joey's arm, terrified at how icy the skin was, and closed his eyes, his fingers feeling Joey's wrist for a beat. For one horrible moment, he thought there was none, until he shifted his fingers and felt a weak, slow pulse beneath the skin. "There's one!" he yelled over the phone. "There's a pulse, there's one, it's real slow!" That was bad, right? Didn't pulses slow down right before people died? Frank's own heart felt like it was pounding at the speed of light; compared to that, Joey's seemed even feebler. 

"Okay good, now listen closely, Frank." Fenton's voice was calm and quietly but even Frank could tell that he was very scared. "He's not breathing? Are you sure?" 

"I-I'm sure!" 

"Okay I am going to have you do some rescue breathing, all right? Just like on TV, when they help someone who's almost drowned start breathing again." 

"O-okay." He listened as carefully as he could while Fenton carefully described mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Not even stopping to think, Frank did exactly as he was told, praying that whoever might be up there would let Joey start breathing again. Rotating between his first aid and the cell phone for directions, Frank hoped with all his being every minute that it would work. 

When Joey coughed weakly, and a bubble of water gurgled from between Joey's lips, Frank almost didn't notice. But when he went back to give another breath, his eyes widened, and he roughly shoved Joey over on his side, so the water didn't just go back in and choke him again. 

Joey did not wake, but with the help Frank had given, his lungs were beginning to expel the water he had taken in. Frank watched, shaking, as Joey coughed up muddy water. He recoiled slightly when the younger boy vomited as a reaction to the water and the mouth-to-mouth. 

Frank picked up the phone from where it lay on the ground and shakily reported what was happening. 

"Well done, Frank! No, it's all right, people sometimes throw up when this happens, it's okay. Just...make sure he stays on his side so he can bring up whatever he needs to. Well done, good boy...just...just watch him okay? There are paramedics on the way, and your mother is also on her way there with blankets. Just stay right where you are, okay?" 

"O-okay. D-daddy, I-I'm c-cold, I-I'm s-scared..." 

"I know son. I know. You'll be all right, just hold on. You've shown great courage so far. Just hold on a little longer. Is Joey still breathing?" 

Frank looked, squinting his eyes to catch the rising and falling of Joey's chest. "Y-yes, b-but i-it's slow." 

"That's okay, he's breathing, that's the important part. Is he shivering?" 

Again, Frank looked. He was finding it difficult to talk. Was it because his mouth was frozen? "N-no...B-but I am." He didn't know that the fact that Joey wasn't shivering anymore was not a good sign. 

"Okay, I bet you are. Just hold on, keep talking to me, okay? Do you two have your jackets on?" 

"N-no, they w-were off...I think... I - I took off my shirt. So - so I wouldn't s-sink." 

"That was good thinking. It wouldn't have kept you too warm, and would just be extra weight." 

Before Frank could say anything else, a rustle in the bushes nearby made him snap his head in that direction, his heart leaping painfully in alarm. But then Laura Hardy's worried, white face peered around a tree and her eyes widened. 

"Mommy!" Frank shrieked, trying to stand to run to her, but his feet were numb. 

Laura Hardy's arms were laden with blankets, and Frank caught sight of his sleeping bag, too. She clenched her teeth and dropped to her knees beside the boys, wrapping a blanket around Frank, and then laying a thick blanket and the sleeping bag on top of Joey. She wrapped the little boy as well as he could without moving very much, then put the remaining blanket around Frank. She held her oldest son to her, rocking him back and forth. 

Neither one said anything. Frank was too weak from the ordeal and from relief, and Laura could not find the words to speak. She only rocked her son, holding him in the blankets, wiling his body to warm up. For had Frank not been sitting up and making noise, Laura could have sworn he was dead, pale as he was. 

The paramedics were quick. Not five minutes after Laura reached the boys, Fenton came running up to them with three medics in tow, two men and a woman, who carried a small stretcher and white blankets. One man knelt next to Joey and felt his pulse rate, frowning a bit as he did. He motioned to the others, one of whom handed down what looked to Frank like a thick slab of wood. They carefully slid Joey onto this and transferred him onto to the stretcher, covering him with the blankets and strapping him gently on so that he didn't fall. 

"I-is h-he g-gonna die?" Frank whispered to them. 

"I don't think he will, son," said one of the men, as the other two bore the stretcher quickly away. Frank saw that the other two were a man and a woman. "Did you also fall in the river?" the medic asked. 

"I j-jumped i-in a-after J-Joey." 

"Very brave of you. You look very cold...we should bring you with us and have you checked out, too." 

Laura nodded at this. "We'll follow right along in the car. Fenton is going to ride with Joey if that's possible." 

The man winced. "There won't be room, I'm afraid, it's small back there. But if you want to follow, we can take one of you right to where they're treating them." 

Laura nodded. "Okay." She picked Frank up and held him close, following the party out of the woods. 

Fenton drove; Laura sat in the back seat with her bundled up son, holding him as he shook. She spent most of the trip telling him how well he had done and how proud she was of him, and that they were both going to be okay. 

The hospital was a very scary place. They were fairly busy, though fortunately there were very few urgent emergencies. Still, when Frank was carried inside and Fenton had gone to the counter to give their information and to find out where they were taking Joe, there were a lot of people bustling back and forth. Frank heard some kind of beeper going off, and someone coughing in a nearby room. Once Fenton had given all of their information, Laura was told to take Frank into a little room off the main hallway, which was curtained off from view. 

Frank looked around as he was carried in, and saw a teenage girl on a bed with a strange thing in her mouth that had steam coming out of it. It was to help her breathe, Laura told her son when he asked. There was no one else currently in the little area, and Laura sat on a bed with Frank in her lap. 

"Wh-where's Joe?" Frank asked. 

"They probably took him somewhere with more equipment so that they could make sure he's all right. Make sure his lungs didn't get hurt, make sure that he'll keep breathing, make sure they can get him warmed up." 

"Oh. I-I didn't know he was gonna t-try an' step on the ice, I didn't tell him no fast enough!" 

"Shhh, it's all right sweetheart. We know, it's not your fault, it was an accident. I expect Joey didn't understand that even though the ice looked solid, it wouldn't hold his weight." 

Frank nodded, and slumped tiredly against his mother, clutching the blankets around himself. He didn't think he would ever get warm. And it was _cold_ inside this room! 

They had not waited long before a nurse came in and smiled at him in a way that would have thoroughly irritated Frank were he in any better condition. As it was, he didn't care how condescending the nurse was, just so she helped him get warm. "I'm going to have to borrow your arm there," she chirped. "Gotta get your blood pressure." 

Frank let her extract his bare arm, his shivering increasing a bit as the cold air his it. "That's okay, we'll get you warmed up here in a hurry." The nurse said nothing else as she inflated the blood-pressure cuff and pressed a stethoscope to the crook of his elbow. He wondered at this, but hadn't the energy to ask. "Are you having trouble breathing?" the nurse asked while taking his temperature, using a device that she pressed into his _ear_ to do it. Frank had never heard of such a thing. 

"N-no." 

She took the thermometer when it beeped. "Ninety-two point three, goodness. Gotta get you warmed up there, young man. Got blurry vision?" 

"N-no." 

"Slurred speech?" 

"A-a little." 

"Numb extremities?" At Frank's blank look, she clarified: "Toes, fingers? Hands and feet?" 

Frank nodded. "M-my f-fingers an' toes. M-my feet an' hands were but not anymore." 

"All righty. I'm just gonna take a look at your hands, okay?" Frank nodded, and out came his arm once more. The nurse took a look at his fingers, which were red. She tapped one of them and asked if he could feel it. 

"Y-yeah." 

"That's good, that's a good sign. No frost bite, or anything." She did the same with his toes, which Frank could also feel, though not as well. "That's all right, the feeling'll return. Now, I'm going to get you a dry blanket, this one's heated, so it'll feel nice and warm, okay?" 

Frank nodded, and the nurse left. She came back only once, to give him the blanket (which _was_ warmed, and felt wonderful wrapped around Frank's shivering body) and to tell them that a doctor would be over to talk to them soon. 

"Is that better, sweetheart?" Laura asked Frank. 

"Yeah...I-I'm not as cold now...I-I like this blanket." 

"I bet you do, it's nice and hot. They keep them in a sort of heater, which keeps them warm." 

"For when people fall in the river or ice?" 

"Well, I'm sure they use it for that, but its for anyone who gets cold. They keep it pretty chilly in most hospitals." 

"Oh." 

It wasn't a minute later before a woman with red hair and glasses walked up, smiling in a friendly way. "Good evening. You must be Frank and Laura Hardy?" 

Frank nodded, and Laura said, "Yes...are you the doctor?" 

"I am Doctor Senderson, yes. First of all, little Joey, is it?" Frank nodded. "He is going to be all right." Laura let an exhausted sigh of relief, much like the one Frank let. "Because of you, I am told, young man." The doctor smiled at Frank, who returned a sick smile of his own. "Now, the nurse said that your temperature is quite low, but not enough that we need to keep you here overnight. We just need to get your temperature up a bit more, then we can send you home. Once you've warmed up enough, you can go home, take a hot bath, drink some hot chocolate. But for now I have to ask you a few questions. You feeling up to it?" 

Frank nodded his head, deciding he liked this woman a lot better than the nurse. The doctor was friendly, but her voice did not have the patronizing chirp that the nurse's did. 

"All right, why don't you go ahead and tell me what happened, when your brother fell in the - stream?" 

"W-well I-I dunno if it was a river or stream...I dunno how big it has to be. But he fell in the water. We were in the woods, exploring, an' there was some ice on the w-water, Joey was looking at it I-I didn't know he didn't know you can't step on ice unless it's really thick." 

"Oh, I see. So he stepped on the ice, and fell through. What happened then?" 

"He went under, an' I saw him, an' his head came up a couple of times but then it didn't. I tried to grab him but misses, a-an' so I ran, and then jumped in an' grabbed his shirt. Then I tried to swim out of the w-water... It was really hard." 

"I bet," said the doctor quietly. "It's very hard to save someone from drowning, you did very well. You got him on the banks, then. What then?" 

And so Frank told her about leaving Joey to get the phone, about the phone call and how Fenton had coached him through rescue breathing. 

"Hmmm. Did you know what time it was when he fell?" 

Frank frowned, and thought a few minutes. "It...it was after one. But not one-thirty yet...I-I think." 

"Wonderful. That helps us know how long he was under. And when you called, that was right after you pulled him out?" 

"Yes." 

"All right, one more thing. He's got some bruises and a split lip. How did that happen?" 

Frank scowled darkly. "He got in a fight yesterday. Two kids bigger than him were bein' jerks, an' they beat him up." 

"Yes," said Laura. "I'll be having some words with some parents when these two get back to school." 

"Oh my. Yes, I would say so; good luck with that." The doctor smiled, and briefly grasped Frank's shoulder. "Thank you for your assistance." 

"Y-you're welcome. Can Joey come home with us?" 

"Well, we're gonna keep him here tonight, do some tests on him, make sure that his insides didn't get hurt by the cold, or the water. And we want to make sure he's completely all right before sending him home. If everything is all right, he'll go home with you tomorrow." Seeing Frank's disappointed expression, she sighed quietly. "I know how it is, having someone you love in the hospital. They're not very fun places to be, huh?" 

Frank shook his head. 

"He'll be home with you tomorrow, if all goes well. Have faith, okay kiddo?" 

Frank nodded wearily, and the doctor left. 

An hour later, Frank was declared well enough to go home. The nursing staff had kindly taken the wet blankets and put them in the dryer, so that Frank could bundle up for the trip home. Fenton was being allowed to stay the night in the little room Joey was staying in, and so it was just Frank and Laura who drove home from the hospital. 

Once arriving back at home, Frank was very nearly dead on his feet. Laura got him to eat a light supper and carried him upstairs. She helped him change into warm pajamas and tucked him into bed, adding another blanket. Then she sat on the edge of his bed for a while, softly rubbing his back, and thanking God that both of her boys would be all right. 

. 

The next morning, Laura called her sons' school and explained the circumstances of their absence, saying that Frank might be back on Tuesday, possibly Wednesday, but Joey might be out for longer than that. When Frank woke and wandered downstairs, she went over and hugged him. About half of Frank's color had returned, and though he was still clad in his flannel pajamas, he wasn't shivering. "Morning, sweetheart. We're going to have a bit of breakfast, then we're going to go pick up Joey from the hospital." 

"He can come home?" Frank said, waking up a bit at this revelation." 

"Yep! The doctor called this morning, and he doesn't have any internal injuries. None of his insides were hurt except a little bruising maybe. He'll have to do a lot of resting, but he'll be okay. Thanks to you." She kissed the top of his head. "Are you feeling okay?" 

Frank nodded his head. "Yeah." 

"Good. Let's get some food in us then, eh?" 

Frank wasn't about to argue; he was very hungry. 

Once breakfast was done, he dressed in unseasonably warm clothing to ward off the lingering chill, and followed Mom out the door. 

The trip to the hospital seemed very long; Frank was actually fidgeting by the time they got there. The paperwork seemed to take forever to finish, and then _finally_, Joe was led out of a room looking pale and tired, but mostly all right. Fenton was right beside him. Frank grinned on seeing him and got a rather feeble one in return. He ran to the younger boy and hugged him, heeding Fenton's admonition to be gentle, and got a hug back in return. 

When they got home, Laura made a round of hot apple cider, which was savored by her family with great pleasure. She had taken the day off of work, and Fenton said that he would check the messages on his voice mail another time. Today, the family would spend together. 

Frank went back to school the next day, though the teachers were given a copy of the doctor's report, which said that Frank would need to be kept inside for recess, as he was still susceptible to the cold. Joey went back two days later with the same report, telling everyone that he had a hero for a brother. When that got back to Frank, he did a great deal of blushing over the next few days, as he told everyone what happened. He was very flattered that his little brother was calling him a hero. 

Two weeks later, after they were both recovered and back to their usual selves, Fenton and Laura Hardy noticed quite a change in how the boys interacted with each other. While before, Frank was trying very hard to tolerate his new brother, now he welcomed him in most anything he did. And as for Joey, he adored Frank, sometimes to the point that Frank had to remind Joey that he was just human, not a super hero. It flattered Frank greatly, but it also embarrassed him. 

The other noticeable difference was that Joey did not seem to be smothering Frank as much, even though he was closer to him. They had found a perfect balance between respecting privacy and becoming very close brothers. 


	7. Chapter 7

7

One day, when they were both in Frank's room, playing a video game, Joey suddenly scowled and set his controller down. "I wish I wasn't adopted. I...I mean...you're my brother. But I want to be _real_ family. Not just adopted." 

Frank hit the "start" button on the controller to pause the game, and looked at Joey. To Frank's astonishment, the little boy seemed about to cry. "Joey...are those jerks at school saying that stupid stuff again?" 

Joey shrugged. "No. Well yeah, but I know they're just dummies. Mostly. I dunno." He shrugged. "I mean if we were real brothers, you know from the same family, then no one could say you're not really brother'! That makes me mad!" 

Sighing, Frank nodded his head. "I know, it makes me mad too. Just 'cuz they're too dumb to know. You mean blood brothers. You wish we were blood brothers, that means we'd have some of the same blood because we get our blood from our moms." 

"Yeah." 

There was silence for a few moments, until Frank cocked his head. "I think there's a way." 

Joey blinked, his scowl chased away with a look of incredulity. "There _is_?" 

"Well...yeah, but it might hurt. Hold on a sec...I'll be right back, I gotta look something up." 

Frank ran downstairs to make sure his mother was good and busy with supper, and that Fenton was not back yet from his investigations. He sneaked into his study and turned on the computer, as he didn't think that his parents would be fantastically thrilled with what he was about to suggest to Joey. 

To Frank's frustration, the computer required a password to log in. Annoyed, Frank called it a name, clicked "Cancel", and shut the computer down. He wished he learned how to deal with that kinda thing in school! 

Instead, Frank had to go into the basement and scour the bookshelves, until he found what he was looking for. It was a large book on several different Native American ceremonies. 

He brought the thick book back up to his room, where his brother was lounging around on Frank's bed. But he sat up and looked interested at what Frank had brought into the room. "What's that?" 

"A book," said Frank with the ghost of a smile. 

"I know _that_, but what kind of book?" 

Frank could have taken the teasing a bit further, but chose not to. He sat on the floor and opened the book, paging through it until he found what he sought. "Here it is! Making of Relatives Ceremony." 

Looking very interested, Joe joined Frank on the floor and peered at the pages. He did not read nearly as well as Frank yet, and so Frank told him what the ceremony was about. "A lot of Indians had a ceremony they did if they met someone that they loved as much as a brother. Or sister, or whatever. And they did this ceremony, it's kinda like they joined spirits. It says... Well, most of them say that the brothers who get made with it have to be willing to die for the other. And they have to care about the other until they do die. And it's not a ceremony that you're supposed to do just without thinking, 'cuz it's _really_ important." 

At this, the two boys looked at each other and grinned. They both knew that their decision had already been made. 

"How do we do it?" said Joe. 

"Well...to be blood brothers... I don't see it here, but I heard of it. You're supposed to make a little cut like on your hand, and the other person does the same, and you hold hands, so that the blood kinda mixes." 

Joey winced, but that was all the reaction he showed to the idea of pain. "I could do that," he said finally. "What else do you have to do?" 

"Well there's different ones. But it's all weird symbol stuff. You know, when they do something that's supposed to mean something else?" 

Joey wrinkled his nose. "Let's not do any symbols." 

"Hmm. Okay. Well..." Frank turned a page, and scanned the page, finally pointing at a verse of a prayer in a language that he didn't even recognize. "Here! It says that this is what Lakota Indians say so that the spirits will know that we're doing the ceremony, and they make the two people brothers for real." 

Joey looked doubtful. "I dunno if I could read that." 

"It's okay. I think I can sound it out. And you can say each part after me! The spirit's know what we mean. I think they're really smart." 

This seemed to reassure Joey, and he nodded. "Okay! Let's do it." 

Frank nodded and rummaged in his desk drawer, finally pulling out a pocketknife he had been carrying to Scout meetings. "We can use this," he said, opening it and looked at the blade inside. "You think we should clean it first? Use peroxide?" 

"I dunno. Did the Indians do it?" 

"I don't think so. But...but they didn't have the germs we have, back then. I better clean it." 

"I'll come help!" 

And so the blade was cleaned as thoroughly as Frank could, using first soap and water, and then peroxide to kill the "modern" germs. And after a quick check to make sure Laura was still busy with supper, the two boys retreated to Frank's room. 

At first, the boys only looked at the knife, expressions of nervousness on both faces. It was easier to say you wanted to go through such a thing until you were confronted with actually doing it. Joey seemed very upset. "I-I don't think I can do this...but I wanna!" 

"I know," said Frank. "Me too. Hey! Let's switch then. I'll make the cut on your hand, and you make it on mine. Then we can just close our eyes 'til it's over...would that be okay?" And not only would it make it easier, it would also show their trust in each other. 

Joey did not answer aloud, he only closed his eyes tight and held out his left hand. 

Smiling a bit at this show of trust, Frank's hands shook a little bit as put the knife to Joey's hand. But he kept telling himself it was for a good reason. It'd show that they _really_ were brothers. After a moment, he warned Joey, and made a quick, small slice on the outer part of the palm. Joey gasped and tensed up, but didn't jerk his hand away. 

"Okay, it's done." 

Looking surprised, Joey opened his eyes. "It is? Wow, that hardly hurt at all! Okay...now...now your turn." Frank handed the knife over, and Joey bit his lip. "What if I hurt you though? Or...or what if I slip and make the cut too big?" 

Frank considered this for a moment, and then shook his head. "Nahhh. You won't. You'll be okay." And as Joey had trusted him, Frank closed his eyes and held out his hand. 

Joey did made cut just fine, and the boys clasped hands, making sure the blood touched. "Okay," said Frank. "Now the words." And he painstakingly sounded each word out, stopping every once in a while to let Joey repeat them. 

And when they finished, they looked at each other, and at their hands, still clasped. And they knew it had worked. Not just because of the blood, or the words, but because they wanted it. 

Frank and Joe had the eyes and attention of everyone in that booth for duration of their story. Liz Webling, Biff Hooper, Tony Prito, Callie Shaw...even Chet and Iola, who had known the boys since they moved to Bayport. They all had given the brothers their undivided attention. 

"Mom and Dad never found out we did that," said Joe. "But they could tell it had changed a little. We really were brothers then." 

"And that was the start of our being so close," Frank added. They had told the story back and forth, one easily taking it up when the other paused. "The beginning of our trust." 

Chet shook his head slowly, his tone one of mild amazement. "I _remember_ that! When you fell in the stream! And I kinda remember when you guys moved in. And I never knew you were adopted!" 

Joe grinned, and shrugged. "You thought I was just lucky, that I didn't look like Frank?" 

The spell that had been woven by the tale was broken into friendly laughter. Even Frank had laughed, though he made sure to smack his brother first. Joe pretended to be mortally wounded until Iola told him to stop being a ham. 

"I dunno if I'd've had the guts to cut my hand, even a little one, when I was that young," said Biff, who had met the brothers about a month after the ceremony. "That's pretty cool." 

"Actually, a caseworker from Social Services came and talked to us after that incident," said Frank. "You know, Joe having gotten hospitalized not a year after being adopted. They conducted an investigation to make sure that Joe was being well looked after. Mom and Dad said that other parents had let their kids wander the woods, that the woods were usually quite safe." 

Joe snorted. "Yeah, they might as well have not wasted their time. But you know, they get all paranoid. Luckily, they decided there was no neglect issues." 

"I know Mom and Dad felt horrible about the whole thing," added Frank. 

Callie rolled her eyes. "At least they didn't try and make it look like your parents were unfit like some seem to do." 

Frank nodded. "Yes, there is that." If he had lost his brother to them, after fighting so hard to save him, he wasn't sure what he would have done. 

The pizza on the table had been long since devoured, and the soda glasses empty. Tony stood and stretched. He had long lost the Italian accent he had in his early youth, but his swarthy, handsome features left no doubt of his Italian blood. "I gotta head out, I'll be late for dinner, if I'm not already. Thanks for the story, guys. It was really interesting." 

"Yeah, us too," said Iola. "Not that my brother needs any more to eat." 

Chet snorted, but didn't deny it. 

"Goodbyes" and "see-you-laters" were exchanged as the members of the gang all scattered to their respective vehicles to head for home. 

Left alone in the near-empty mall, Frank looked at his younger brother, who was now an inch taller than him. (When puberty hit and this growth spurt occurred, it was a while before Joey would let his brother forget!) "So, what do you think? Think it was a good idea that we told them?" 

Joe, looking unusually serious, nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, it was. So they know that we really are blood brothers." 

Frank smiled, touched by the sincerity in Joe's voice. "Yeah," he said. "By choice. You don't get a much stronger bond than the ones you choose. It's a shame the people who say 'you're _only_ adopted' don't realize that." 

"Yeah, well, what do they know?" Joe crumbled up his napkin and stood up, a smile lighting his face. "C'mon, shorty, let's get home." 

"Shorty?" Frank pretended indignation, as Joe darted away from him. "Wait till I get my hands on you, _little brother_!" 

FIN 


End file.
